All That You Can't Leave Behind
by BrainySmurf6
Summary: Later in season six.  Booth must finally choose between Hannah and Brennan...but it's not the kind of choice you think.  When a bitter man from his past returns, seeking revenge, life can turn tragic very fast.  Booth/Brennan
1. Prologue

Authors Note: _Yes, I have returned to the land of Bones fanfiction. I spent all summer trying to not to think too much about the coming season, trying not to care about the time jump and this Hannah person that was coming, trying to de-obsess a little. But nope. Withdrawal set in, and by the time the premiere started, I was sucked right back in, caring too much as always. Already Brennan is breaking my heart, Emily is slaying me with her performance, Booth is bugging me more than he ever had, and Hannah is…let's not._

_So I had to write this. It's not going to the epic Beauty and Tragedy was (at least I don't think it is), but I'm not sure of exact length yet. Hope you enjoy though. I'm sure we all remember my penchant for angst leading to clarity and love and whatnot…romangst, as I still call it. _

_About Booth and Hannah: As much as I hate Hannah (she seems like a good person and all, but she also seems like the cookie cutter of the perfect girlfriend, and that bugs me. Oh, and it bugs me that she isn't Brennan), and would like to make her a loathsome serial killer or something, I'm going to try not to go cliché with this so I must stick to canon: she's boring, but basically pleasant. Oh, and I'd like to make Booth brainwashed or something into all this "I love her, look how hot she is in this picture I'm shoving in everyone's face like a petty smug git", but, again, can't do that._

_Oh, and after this brief prologue, we will flash back before going forward._

_Sorry for the length. For those of you I didn't lose, here we go._

**All That You Can't Leave Behind**

_Prologue _

Three hours after Brennan practically ran out of her office, away from him, something inside Seeley Booth snapped.

In a fluid motion, he flung the manila folder in his hand as hard as could, opening it up midair and sending the papers inside fluttering to the floor like debris, littering Brennan's office.

Without pausing, Booth knocked his arm against the 'done' stack of files (which in spite of the hours of work was still shorter than the ones he still had to go through), sending them all sliding off the desk, adding still more paper to the floor.

Setting his jaw and gritting his teeth, Booth gripped the edges of the desk until his knuckles were white, trying to gain control.

Hannah had been missing for at least ten hours. And Booth had just driven away the one person he needed with him right now.

Drawing a breath, Booth stood and moved out of Brennan's office toward the forensic platform, where all the other squints (plus Sweets) were spread out, going through their own stack of case files. Even in his exhaustion and frustration, Booth felt a wave of gratitude to his team.

This wasn't their area, or any part of their job, yet they'd been here all night, each one an extra pair of eyes for these files, trying to find anyone who might be a suspect.

Booth approached Angela, who was sitting on the steps, a pile of folders on either side of her. He sat down beside her and asked in a low tone, "Ange, do you know where Bones went?"

Cutting her eyes at him, Angela fixed Booth with a stare that was even colder than the usual expression she'd been using with him lately. "She took her part of the case files and went home. Can't _imagine_ why."

Booth sighed, looking contrite. "I know. I was out of line. I'm just…I'm frustrated, and I'm _pissed_, and I'm scared, Angela, and…I took it out on her. But I didn't mean it."

The slightest bit of sympathy filled Angela's eyes as she glanced up at him. "I know you didn't."

"I tried calling her a few times…"

"She'll be back, Booth. She wants to help you, and if she'd found anything in her files she'd have called. Just give her a little time, okay?"

"Alright," he agreed. Sweets called him from across the platform to look a potential suspect, and Booth was able to put Bones out of his mind and focus on more dire matters.

Twenty minutes later, his cell phone rang, the same RESTRICTED message flashing across the screen as the last few calls. Stomach folding, Booth snatched it up and forced a note of authority into his tone. "Booth."

"Agent Booth," the digitally altered voice had a tone of feigned pleasantness that just fed Booth's range. "How are things coming?"

"This is getting real old, you coward," he seethed, aware that everyone on the platform had stopped working to watch him. "_Where_ is she? What do you want?"

"I thought I've made it clear what I want…I want to make you pay." The voice chuckled, and Booth's grip on the phone tightened as though that was enough to cause his mysterious caller pain. "But my immediately desire is more simple, Agent Booth. I'd like to speak to your partner."

Booth's insides froze, his lungs constricting. "What?"

"Dr. Brennan. I'd like to speak with her this time…just for a little change of pace. Unless…she isn't available for…some reason." Another laugh.

His eyes squeezed shut on their own accord. He was so angry he couldn't see straight. But fresh terror gripped Booth, too, crushing his chest with the truth of it even as he protested silently, _No, no, no, not her, too, please, not Bones, especially not now, not after what I said, please not her…_

"Something wrong?" The voice asked innocently, and though he'd successfully followed the policy of keeping the phone calls as long as possible. But now, he couldn't stop himself from slamming the phone shut, before it was too late, before he heard the truth and knew for sure.

"Booth?" Cam asked uncertainly. "What happened?"

"Is it Hannah, did he say he…?" Hodgins trailed off, not wanting to voice his first thought.

Booth spun and fixed his gaze on Angela. "Call Bones. Get her on the phone, and call me as soon as you do. I'm going to her apartment."

Without waiting for questions, he ran past them, down the stairs and toward the door. Somewhere, in that deep place that was still so in tune with Brennan, even after the past few months, he knew.

But he had to be sure.

Ten minutes later, he'd driven like a maniac to Brennan's building and was pounding his way down her hall.

Her apartment door was open.

A strangled sound escaped from his throat, but Booth pushed through the door, her name sticking in his throat as it became immediately apparent that calling out to her would do no good.

Files were spilled on her floor, scarily mirroring the destruction he'd caused in her office. A lamp was broken, a coffee table overturned, a bottle of water dripping off the counter onto the carpet.

And next to the wet spot, there was blood.

Booth sank to his knees in the middle of the mess, a scream tearing at his throat even as he clamped his lips shut.

After a moment, Booth dazedly pulled out his phone and dialed Cam. The first words out of his mouth, low and hollow were, "He got her."

~(B*B)~

Brennan couldn't have been out for more than half a minute, because when she awoke, her vision blurry, Hannah was bent over her, working the knots in the ropes around her wrists.

Seeing her eyes open, Hannah asked quietly, "Are you alright?"

Taking a quick survey herself, Brennan found the answer was a vehement _no_. Half dry blood caked her face, spreading from her hairline down to her cheek, and her entire head was pounding. Her body ached from hitting the hard, cement ground with no way to cushion the fall (a result of having her hand and feet bound), three of her fingers were numb, and she was fairly certain she'd fractured a least two ribs.

"Fine," she murmured, just as the ropes mercifully fell away. Brennan sat up and examined her free hands. Her wrists were an angry red from the bindings, but most disturbing was the way her broken fingers dangled uselessly at odd angles from her hand.

As her surroundings became more clear, Brennan noticed Hannah had already removed the ropes from her ankles. "Thanks," she managed. "Why aren't you tied?"

The other woman met her eyes . "I didn't get the chance to fight him. He doesn't seem very interested in hurting us if we don't try anything." She sighed shakily, "He keeps saying he's only interested in hurting Seeley."

Brennan nodded. This wasn't news to her; she'd heard all the phone calls.

Hesitantly, her voice soft, Hannah asked, "How is he?"

_Well, he hates me_, Brennan thought, the same degree of hurt burning in her chest despite her current situation. "He's scared. And angry. But he's got everyone working hard, going through every case he's ever worked on, trying to figure out who might have a grudge against him." Brennan looked away, absently rubbing the rope burns on her wrist. "Booth'll find us. He..he w"on't let anything happen to you."

"Or you," Hannah added seriously. Off Brennan's look, she half-smiled. "Don't look so surprised. I've heard the stories.

Brennan shrugged noncommittally and fixed her gaze on the floor, turning her thoughts to any sort of plan for escape out of the tiny dim room.

After a silent ten minutes, the door creaked open and the man entered. He was tall and fit, his face hard and severe, all angles. He'd had a mask on when he'd accosted her at her apartment, but didn't seem to feel the need here.

Brennan's instinct was to pick up right where she'd left off, fighting this bastard for all he was worth. But even the slightest movement hurt, and from what Hannah said, he made frequent visits. She'd wait until she had a better strategy.

"Ah, you're awake," he commented with a leer, closing the door behind him. "Hopefully she's explained to you how things work. You'll be fine if you just do what I say. You've done nothing to me, and I don't want to hurt you."

"Right," Brennan spat fiercely. "That is until you're ready to kill us both."

Hannah groaned from behind her, but the man just smiled wider. "You might be the famous genius, doc, but you got that one wrong. I'm not killing _both_ of you."

The two women exchanged glances. "What does that mean?"

"It means one of you gets to live." He chuckled, eyes brightening in sheer delight at his own plan. "And I'm going to let Agent Booth choose who."

_Author's Note: So. There we have it. For next chapter, we'll go back and see what happened to get us to this point, and then continue on._

_Hope you're intrigued. Reviews are the greatest. Tell me what you think of the premise, the hints of what happened before, what you're expecting…anything. _


	2. We Might As Well Be Strangers

Author's Note: You guys. You _guys_. 45 reviews for a prologue? Why did I ever take a break from Bones fiction again?

Seriously, I'm so glad you guys are liking this and intrigued by the premise. I love hearing what you think, and it is the best motivation around, so please do keep that up…I love it. This chapter is our setup/flashback chapter…I usually hate when stories start in the middle or the end and then go back and it takes forever to get to where you started, so we're only doing one chapter. This will bring us right up to date with the prologue. And though there are no real surprises, there's a very important scene between Booth/Brennan.

Also, last night's episode? Heart crushing. Holy hell. If anyone wants to discuss/vent about this, feel free to PM me, because I'm starting to bug people in real life talking about it (Also, if you're on tumblr, you should follow me and talk to me on there...I love all the tumblr Bones people…my tumblr name is 'darkdizzymerrygoround' and I'd put the URL but of course it doesn't work on here)

Chapter One

We Might As Well Be Strangers

_I don't know your thoughts these days  
We're strangers in an empty space  
I don't understand your heart  
It's easier to be apart_

We might as well be strangers in another town  
We might as well be living in a another time

**Twenty hours earlier**

Booth led the handcuffed man out of the interrogation room and handed him over the police. Sweets and Brennan emerged from the booth.

"Good job," he said in an undertone to Sweets, acknowledging his help in getting the confession.

"Thanks," Sweets' usual pleased smile was absent in spite of the praise. The young psychologist looked as exhausted as Booth and Brennan; it had been a long, draining case, involving three dead teenage girls. Booth was just glad it was over.

"C'mon, Bones, I'll take you back to the lab…and we can let the others know."

Brennan nodded wordlessly and the two of them, nodding goodbye to Sweets, started out of the Hoover.

The car ride back to the Jeffersonian was quiet, but not with the awkward silences that had admittedly become more frequent between over the past five months. They were both merely too exhausted to force conversation.

Once inside the Jeffersonian, they found Hodgins, Angela, Cam and Wendall still working on the platform.

"We got him," Booth told them. Shoulders sagged with relief. "Go home, get some rest." Brennan and Cam both opened their mouths to speak, but he cut them off, anticipating. "The paperwork can wait. We've earned a break."

As everyone gratefully began straightening up their stations, murmuring quietly, Brennan turned to Booth and asked hesitantly, "Do you want to grab some food? The bar?"

Glancing at his watch, Booth shook his head. "I'm supposed to meet Hannah for dinner…I'm almost late, actually."

"Right."

Booth glanced up, and gave Brennan a small smile, an apology on his lips, but she was already moving away. His gaze followed her as Brennan walked up to Cam, speaking too quietly for Booth to hear. Cam's eyebrows drew together, but eventually she just shrugged. Then Brennan gathered up a stack of files and headed to her office.

Booth tore his eyes away, glancing again his watch and realizing he needed to head out right now to be only five minutes late. As soon as he turned around, though, Angela's hard, stony glare stopped him.

"Ange? Something wrong?' He looked at her expectantly, genuinely bewildered until she, too, flicked her eyes in the direction of Brennan's office.

"Oh, nothing. Just that I can already tell I'm going to have to pry the paperwork out of Brennan's hands to get her to leave the lab tonight."

"What do you-"

"She's been working pretty late recently. All night sometimes." Accusation pulsed through Angela's turned, and Booth's gut twisted with a guilt he wasn't ready to claim.

They both knew that this was an old habit for Brennan, but one that hadn't been active for years. Booth didn't like the implications of its return.

Ducking his head, unable to fully meet Angela's eyes, Booth muttered, "I…I hadn't really noticed."

"Yeah I know," Angela sighed. "I know you don't notice her."

His head snapped up, some sort of protest rising in his throat, but Angela's back was to him. As she walked away, Booth admitted to himself that he didn't know what kind of defense he could have given.

No longer preoccupied with his watch, Booth started toward Brennan's office. At the door, he nearly knocked but thought better of it, opening the door and sticking his head in. "Hey, Bones?"

Brennan looked up, surprised. "I thought you were going."

"I was. I mean, I am just wanted to, uh…see if you wanted to join Hannah and me for dinner?" Brennan just blinked at him, expressionless. He added, "It's just the diner."

For a moment, Brennan looked at him, and he couldn't read her face. Then, she turned her attention back to the paperwork. "Um…no. Thanks, but I'm going to get a head start on the paperwork."

"Aw, c'mon Bones. You need a break as much as the rest of us."

Even as Brennan shook her head, Booth didn't move. HE was doing some quick mental calculations, trying to remember the last time the two of them had been out for a meal, or even just drinks, after work. Two weeks? Three?

There was that time at the end of the Harrison case, when the whole team had gone to Founding Fathers. Hannah had met him there.

That was three and a half weeks ago. As for the last time the two of them had gone out on their own…Booth couldn't even remember.

He felt a sudden pang of longing, deep in the chest. He knew there was some truth to Angela's statement.

Brennan looked up at him, misreading his reasons for lingering in her doorway. "It's okay, Booth. Really. Go see your girlfriend."

At that, Booth could do nothing but nod. "Don't stay too late, okay?"

She didn't bother answering, and after a beat Booth simply closed the door.

~(B*B)~

Staring at the closed door, Brennan determinedly set her jaw and swallowed away the tightness in her throat.

There was no reason this should still bother her.

Inwardly, she scolded herself for even asking Booth to get dinner. It had been a long time since she'd bothered, but this case had been long and draining; the prospect of the two of them at Founding Fathers had seemed so tempting Brennan had nearly forgotten they didn't do that anymore.

Brennan had always been prepared for change. She knew better than anyone that it was natural (entropy, and all that), and that nothing was constant.

And, in the five months since they'd gotten back to DC, she and Booth had surely changed. Their partnership, now almost completely professional, was barely recognizable to the one they'd had just over a year ago.

It wasn't entirely Booth's fault, Brennan knew. For the first month or so, he'd invited her out with him and Hannah, trying to include her. But after awhile, when it became clear that seeing Booth and his girlfriend together wasn't getting any easier, Brennan started refusing. A few weeks of that, and Booth stopped asking.

So that was a change – that Booth and Brennan spent little to no time together outside of work, as well as the fact that cases were essentially the only thing they talked about anymore.

But there were other, smaller changes too, ones Brennan couldn't exactly quantify or even properly explain. Something lacking in the way Booth looked at her, for example, or an uncertain awkwardness that had never existed before.

And Brennan missed it, all of it, more than she wanted to admit.

The door to her office swung open, and Angela entered, her face already set in a 'no-arguments' sort of expression. "Sweetie, come on. We're going for drinks."

Brennan looked up, already racking her brain for the excuse she'd used least frequently. "Who is?"

"All of us. Well," Angela rolled her eyes. "All of us except _Booth_. I'm not letting you stay in here all night, not after the week we've had…you must need a drink as much as I do, not to mention _sleep_."

Brennan eyed Angela's bulging stomach pointedly. "You can't drink."

"Exactly. Be grateful you can. Besides, I need the vicarious buzz."

"That doesn't make any sense," Brennan countered, already turning her attention back to her work.

Huffing loudly, Angela moved in front of Brennan's desk, reached out, and closed the folder Brennan was scanning. "Sweetie. Look at my face. Don't argue with hormones. _Come on_."

As Angela grabbed Brennan's coat and practically threw it at her, Brennan stood, not willing to engage in a lengthy argument. She followed Angela compliantly out the office, almost smiling as she realized that at least some things were, for now at least, immune from entropy.

~(B*B)~

Booth was fifteen minutes late for dinner, and his mind was on Brennan. Angela's comment had shaken him. He wasn't oblivious to how distant they'd become (or how much of it was his fault), but he'd never thought of it in such harsh terms before.

_You don't notice her._

He sat down at a booth, turning the words over and over in his mind. It wasn't true. He noticed Bones…didn't he?

They still worked well together, they still got along. They didn't really see each other outside of work anymore, true, and Booth missed her (much more than he liked to admit). But Sweets had been right, to an extent, that he and Bones had always had a surrogate relationship.

And you couldn't continue with a surrogate relationship and still expect to have a real one.

It was only at that thought that Booth remembered Hannah and, glancing at his watch, realized she was over twenty minutes late.

Unease beginning to fill him, Booth got out his cell phone.

~(B*B)~

Brennan didn't miss the fact that Hodgins and Angela took an unnecessarily lengthy route home from the bar, presumably so they could follow her and Angela could see that she returned to her apartment and not the lab.

She shouldn't have worried so much. Toward the end of the evening, Brennan had started to feel the exhaustion the others had spent the night complaining about (not that it had them leaving to go home any earlier).

For once, Brennan was looking forward to sleep.

~(B*B)~

Booth was standing in the middle of his apartment, trying to convince himself he was being paranoid. Nothing was out of place in the apartment, doors locked, Hannah's car still gone.

She got wrapped up in her work was all…in a few hours she'd be laughing at him for immediately expecting the worst.

He'd done that before. Booth thought about a time Bones had been late for a dinner, he'd found her apartment empty, phone was off…he'd been convinced she was kidnapped, buried alive again, gone after some killer on her own…of course, it turned out she'd been down in bones storage for hours, oblivious to the world around her and completely bewildered when he'd burst in in a state panic.

This was going to be like that.

And then the phone rang.

~(B*B)~

_Booth calling_ flashed across the screen of Brennan's cell phone. It was nearly eleven, and he was supposed to be having a late dinner and going home with Hannah.

But he was calling her. And Brennan couldn't stop a strange surge of hope from hitting her; something was different about him tonight…it had been months since he'd invited her along for dinner (no wonder, after her constant refusals). But tonight, he'd come back to her office specifically to ask.

And there had been something else…something different about him. Maybe it was the way he'd look genuinely disappointed when she said no. Maybe it was something different in his voice. Brennan wasn't adept at that kind of analysis.

She answered the phone, "Booth?"

"Bones…" All traces of pleasure vanished; Booth's voice was tight, almost ragged. Something was wrong. "I need you. I need…your help."

"What happened?" She asked, already moving to pull her shoes back on. "Booth what's wrong?"

"Hannah never showed up for dinner. And I just got a phone call." He paused, and then spoke tersely, "Somebody's taken her. He says…he says I know him, that this is revenge for…for something. I have to find her, I _have_ to, but he says no FBI…"

"It doesn't matter, you're the best they have." The reassurance came automatically, but Brennan's mind was racing, trying to wrap around what she was being told. So far, the only thing registering was the pain in Booth's voice, and it made her ache for him. "Booth, the man on the phone...did he make it sound like…" she trailed off uncertainly, not sure to tactfully word what she wanted to know.

Booth, though, seemed to understand without the words. "He claims he hasn't hurt her. And he said he'd be in touch that…" For the first time, Booth's voice fully showed the extent of his anger. "…that this isn't over."

Brennan kept her voice low and calming. "Okay. This is probably someone you caught and arrested, right? So you need to pull your old case files, all of them, and we can see who's out of jail, and who might have a particularly personal problem with you."

"Okay. Yeah, alright, I can do that. Thanks, Bones."

She closed the door behind her, heading to the car. "Meet me at the lab when you have them. I'll call everyone else."

"You don't have to call them, Bones, I know there's no…there's nothing for you guys to examine or anything."

"Booth, they'll want to help you. And the amount of people you've put away…we'll need the extra eyes."

"Okay," his voice was quiet. "Thank you."

"You'll find her, Booth." Brennan told him softly. "It's gonna be okay."

"Thank you," he repeated. "I'll see you at the lab."

Brennan hung up the phone, climbing in her car, adrenaline pumping. She believed what she said; Booth would find Hannah. He'd bring her back.

Brennan, of all people, knew Booth always saved the people he cared about.

~(B*B)~

Cam arrived about ten minutes after Brennan, followed by Booth (armed with boxes of files, then Sweets, and finally Angela and Hodgins.

They split up the stacks and came up with a strategy within minutes. They were to call parole officers to check the whereabouts of anyone who'd been released from prison, and anyone with a history of kidnapping and voice disguised ransom calls was being immediately checked.

Booth left for awhile, driving to Hannah's office. Her car was still in the parking lot, but locked, and if the kidnapper had taken her from there, he'd left no trace.

He went back to the lab to find the others still going through the seemingly endless case files. Angela and Brennan were in Brennan's office, while Hodgins, Sweets and Cam were spread across the platform.

After checking in on the platform, Booth headed into Brennan's office to get an update. He was barely inside the door when he phone rang, and he froze.

Locking his gaze with Brennan's, he said stiffly, "It's him."

"Here," Brennan reached into her desk drawer and handed him the small, electronic recorder she used for lab notes. "Record the call, Angela can try to pull something from it."

He nodded curtly, holding the device up to his phone as he snapped it open. "_What_?"

"Agent Booth, how are things coming?"

"Listen you, son of a bitch, I'm really starting to lose my patience. What is it you want?"

"I think I've made that perfectly clear, Agent. I want you to pay. I want you to suffer the same way I did. Just like I told your girl here…"

"I swear to God, if you hurt her-"

There was a low laugh. "I haven't hurt her. _She_'s done nothing to me. It's you I'm angry at. But never fear, I'll make this as painless as possible for _her_."

Unable to stop himself, Booth slammed his fist onto the desk in front of him. "I will _kill_ you, fucking coward-"

The voice on the other end seemed unbothered by the insult. "Oh, you thought I meant…oh, no, no, no. It's far too early for that. Like I said, the fun is only just beginning. You think you're suffering now…just wait."

There was a pause, but Booth kept his teeth gritted, his mouth shut.

"I'll be in touch," the voice said at last, before a click ended the call.

Booth shoved his phone into his pocket, barely repressing the urge to throw it across the room, before passing the recorder wordlessly to Angela.

"Booth?" Brennan asked cautiously. She stood, a bit alarmed at the expression on his face, and moved closer, reaching out to touch his arm. "What did he say?

Booth abruptly shrugged her off, resisting comfort. A look of hurt flashed across Brennan's face, but he tried to push away the guilt. "Noting knew." He turned, walking out. "Let's just keep working."

~(B*B)~

Brennan stared after Booth for a long moment then walked shakily back to her desk.

Angela was watching her closely. "Are you okay, Sweetie?"

"Yes, I just…I've never seen him like this."

Angela smiled grimly. "I have."

Looking up, her expression puzzled, Brennan questioned, "When?"

Angela shook her head slightly. "Never mind."

~(B*B)~

Booth returned to the platform and grabbed a stack of files out of the boxes they still had to go through .He knew if he stayed close, Booth wouldn't be able to resist demanding explanations every time there was the slightest reaction, so he took a stack up to the lounger area upstairs, trying to keep his hands from shaking long enough to grab the files.

Hours slipped by, the files turning up nothing. He made some calls to parole officers, but each one was a dead end. As more files turned up nothing, and more time passed with no one else bursting in with a revelation, Booth began to realize just how futile their search might be.

They only had records of people he'd arrested. There was no way of tracking each one of their family members or friends, unknown accomplices, anyone with a sense of revenge. And those would be much more numerous.

After awhile, he wandered downstairs to grab more case files, and stopped by Brennan's office again to see her sitting at her desk, listening to Angela, who was sitting on the couch. There was no file open in front of Brennan, just a stack beside her, seemingly forgotten.

As Booth stared, fury began to fill him, brimming quickly to the surface, choking him, barely contained. He was angry at everything: angry that Hannah was missing because of something he did, angry at how useless he felt, angry at the fact that they had no leads, even angry that he'd sat at the diner for ten minutes not noticing that Hannah was gone because he was wasting time worrying about Bones.

When he spoke, his voice was loud and harsh, "Oh, by all means, Bones, take a little break. Absolutely no hurry."

Brennan blinked at him, confused. "Sorry, I was just-"

"Just what? Just taking a break?" He made a scoffing sound. "You think Hannah can take a break right now? I don't know why I asked you for help…you don't like Hannah. You probably wouldn't care if some psycho-"

Staring at him with a completely bewildered expression, Brennan protested, "What are you talking about? That's ridiculous."

"Booth," Angela put in, sounding as surprised as Brennan looked, "She wasn't taking a break-"

Booth ignored her. "So of course you don't care. Are these the files you've done? Pathetic." He grabbed the small stack on her desk and flung them away. Leaning on her desk, glowering at his partner, some vague, disconnected part of Booth recognized that he was losing control, careening off a cliff with no way of going back. But the wild, irrational part of him kept going. "I can see how this isn't keeping your interest. Not scientific enough, right? Never mind that I love her, that she makes me happy…you wouldn't want _that_, Bones, God no, you want everyone to be miserable and _alone_ like you."

Brennan physically drew back, the confusion on her face giving way instantly to raw hurt. From behind him, Angela spoke in a sharp, furious voice, "_Booth_. _Stop_ it."

He barely heard her, repeating, "I _love_ her. Just because you're incapable of that doesn't mean everyone is." He straightened up, a low, hollow laugh escaping him. "Of course you don't get it, _Brennan_. How could you?"

Silence fell. Brennan stared at him, her eyes slowly filling with tears, her expression suggesting he'd just pulled out a gun and pointed it at her face. "Okay. Um…okay," Her voice was quieter than he'd ever heard it, thick with tears and fragile like a child's. Even before he mentally registered, before his rage drained away, Booth's stomach lurched, some part of him already sickened by what he'd just done. "I think…I think I should go. I'll go."

She stood abruptly and moved toward the door. Before he could stop himself, Booth spat bitterly after her, half from leftover anger, half from panic. "Fine. Fine, go, I don't need you."

Brennan stopped walking at that, frozen. Then she slowly deliberately turned and stared at him, tears giving her away, her expression absolutely shattered.

It was this that broke him. The fact that she'd turned around, the fact that, after everything he'd said, the claim 'I don't need you' had clearly cut her deepest. He'd meant just tonight, for the search, but it had come out meaning so much more.

That moment, the two of them staring at each other, seemed to stretch on forever. Finally, Brenan turned around again and continued out of the office.

"Sweetie…" Angela called after her, but Brennan didn't turn around, leaving Booth and Angela standing in the quiet.

Booth was shaking. It felt like the first moment after a car accident…silent and still, but the sense of destruction all around.

Then Angela was in front of him, slamming a file into his chest. When she spoke, her voice was flat and icy. "Like I was just telling Brennan before you came in…all we picked up from the audio was street noises and a radio. So either he's still got Hannah in a car with him, or he's left the place he's keeping her." She started toward the door, then turned, "Oh, and those files you just destroyed are ones that haven't been looked through. Might want to take care of that."

~(B*B)~

Brennan was still fighting tears when she entered her apartment, the stack of files she'd taken from the box as she'd left in her arms. Awkwardly closing the door with her foot, Brennan closed her eyes and inwardly scolded herself for letting what Booth said bother her.

_You already knew what Booth thought of you. You knew he doesn't need you anymore. None of this is new information._

Still, Brennan drew a breath and a crooked, strangled sob rose out of her throat. She gritted her teeth, choking back more.

_It doesn't matter_.

Distracted with keeping her emotions in check, Brennan didn't hear the footsteps behind her until one hand seized her arm and the other wrapped around to press a rag to her face, knocking the files from her hands and onto the floor.

She twisted instinctually, grabbing her assailants arm and nearly flipping him over. Free of his grip, Brennan started to run, needing to get to her bedroom, to the gun in her bedside table. But whatever was on that rag was fast acting, and she was starting to become dizzy and disoriented.

In the living room, she nearly losing her balance, she grabbed the counter for support, her shaky hands knocking over a lamp. The man, who she could now see was tall and muscular, his head covered in a black mask. He lunged at her, throwing aside a coffee table and managing to grab her foot.

Sticking out one hand to break the fall, there was a series of sickening pops and cracks as her finers collapsed under the weight. Battling away the pain, Brennan stood instantly, her vision beginning to blur and twist. She squinted, relying only on the knowledge of her surroundings. The man was blocking her path to the bedroom; she wouldn't be able to get to her gun.

She took off at a run, heading for the door, but he was faster and unencumbered by chloroform. He lunged again, knocking Brennan down, her head colliding with the counter on the way.

When she came to, seconds later, she was lying on the carpet just in front of the doorway, blood from her head pouring down her face and collecting on the carpet. The masked man was tying her feet together, and seemed to have already secured her hands in ropes behind her back.

Seeing her blearily staring at him, the man pressed the rag again to her face, and this time it did the job.

~(B*B)~

When she came to again, Brennan was being dragged down a dark, dingy hallway. Without noticing she was awake, the man, no longer wearing his mask, left her slumped against a wall as he opened a door.

Acting fast, Brennan braced her bound hands against the wall, bent her legs beneath her, and managed to unsteadily push herself to standing position. She waited until the door was open, her only hope that she could jump and knock this man over, possibly knocking him out long enough to get herself free…

But as soon as she did so, he braced himself against the door, not falling. Spinning around, expression only mildly annoyed, he seized Brennan's arms and threw her unceremoniously through the door.

Her body hit the concrete floor hard, with no way to stop or cushion the blow. Her forehead connected in nearly the same spot as her injury from the counter, and Brennan just barely registered Hannah, sitting in the corner of the room, staring wide-eyed, before everything around her faded to black.

_Author's Note: So. There's that. Hope it wasn't too rushed, but I figured it would be best not stretch it all out since you knew what's coming, and that's the important part. So please review and let me know what you think…especially of the last Booth/Brennan scene._

_Like I said, I don't like Booth so far this season. He's being very smug and a little vindictive and a lot distant from Brennan. Like last night…even when Hannah said the telephone gift was Brennan's idea he didn't even LOOK at her. And Brennan saying you're welcome and her face just FALLING when she realized he wasn't talking to her…my heart broke. So a lot of this chapter was establishing how distant they are after five months of what we've seen so far, which would SUCK, but that's how he got to this point with Brennan. But yeah, the fact that I'm angry at him probably shows. _


	3. Make This Go On Forever

_Authors Note: Thanks so much for the awesome reviews, everyone! I'm so thrilled with the response this fic is getting, really makes me love the fandom even more. Hope you enjoy this chapter! The song is "Make This Go On Forever" by Snow Patrol, which is one of the 'theme songs' I have for this story…I highly recommend checking it out. It's very fitting, plus it is all kinds of epic._

_Enjoy! As always, reviews are love. Tell me as much as you want, I love hearing from you guys. _

**Chapter Two**

Make This Go On Forever, Snow Patrol

_All that I keep thinking throughout this whole flight  
Is it could take my whole damn life to make this right  
This splintered mast I'm holding on won't save me long  
Because I know fine well that what I did was wrong_

The last girl and the last reason to make this last for as long as I could  
First kiss and the first time that I felt connected to anything  
The weight of water, the way you told me to look past everything I had ever learned  
The final word in the final sentence you ever uttered to me was love

Booth was still sitting in the floor of Brennan's apartment when Hodgins showed up, Angela behind him. He seemed to be going through on of the folders, extracted from the pile around him on the floor, but his hands were visibly shaking, the paper shaking along with them.

He barely looked up when they came in, though distantly he registered a strangled sound coming from Angela.

"Oh, God…Jack, that's…that's blood."

Hodgins' voice was quiet and reassuring, "It's okay, Ange, it's not much. I'll get a sample, it might not even be hers… you know Dr. B put up a hell of a fight."

Booth was barely listening, but somehow Hodgins' words hit him deep in the gut, the reality of the situation sinking in all over again.

Raising his voice to address Booth, sympathy threaded through his tone. "Booth, Cam called Rebecca, they're taking Parker to her parents for a few days."

"Thanks," Booth replied, his voice hoarse, as though it had been hours since he'd spoken rather than about twenty minutes. Protecting Parker had been the one moment of logic he'd had since getting to Brennan's apartment.

This man, whoever he was, was coming after Booth. And he wouldn't let him take one more person he loved.

Hodgins continued, "I'm just going to take some samples, okay? If he left something behind, we'll know about it."

Booth managed a nod, but his next 'thanks' stuck in his throat. After a moment, with difficulty, he lifted his eyes from the folder. Angela was standing just inside the doorway, her face ashen, eyes red, her hands resting protectively over her stomach.

Hodgins knelt on the floor, opening his kit and bending over the blood splatter for a sample. Scooping up the remaining files best he could, Booth moved out of the younger man's way, standing up, his legs uncertain beneath him.

He was oddly jealous of Hodgins, working diligently on the floor. Booth needed something to do, but he felt utterly useless. It was an odd feeling; every other time Bones had been in danger, there'd been clues, a connection to a current case. It had never been so random.

It had never been so obviously his fault.

Breaking the silence, Hodgins told Booth, "I may be awhile, man, if you want to head on back to the lab…they're done with their files, but Sweets wants to talk to you…get some more info about the phone calls, set up a profile. See if anything clicks for you."

Booth nodded almost absently, racking his brain, angry at himself. _I should know who this is. I should be able to tell, I should remember…_

It was Angela's voice that startled him out of the reverie, dull and lifeless, "Take this with you. The last call he was probably in a car because he was on his way to get Brennan. We may be able to pull something different next time."

She was holding out the recorder in Booth's direction, though her eyes were fixed pointedly on Hodgins' back.

"Thanks," Booth muttered, taking it from her, his gaze lingering fixedly on Angela's face, willing her to glance at him. "Do you want to ride back?" He couldn't imagine Angela being here for any reason besides Hodgins' unwillingness to leave her behind immediately following the news about her best friend.

Angela's eyes drifted shut, her voice tight as she spoke, "No. No, I don't. I can't really look at you right now, Booth, so I'm just gonna…I'm gonna wait for Hodgins."

Booth nodded, his throat narrowing. He knew that tone. It was blame.

All night he'd been blaming himself for Hannah, while everyone else (but especially Bones) had been assuring him that it wasn't his fault the way some unhinged person decided to take revenge on him for doing his job.

But now, there was no pretense, no reassurances. Bones was gone because of him. No one would tell him otherwise.

After a moment of tense silence, Booth muttered something nearly indecipherable about checking the bedroom, and he abruptly turned and moved into Brennan's room.

There was no sign of a struggle inside, but he lingered, not ready to go back to the lab and feel even more helpless.

After a moment of standing uselessly in the doorway, eyes moving slowly over his surroundings, Booth found himself staring at Bones' windowsill, across the room from him, and the small figurines sitting prominently on it.

Jasper and Brainy Smurf. Somehow the sight of them stole his breath for a moment, these tiny reminders, frivolous and inconsequential to anyone else, of what he and Bones used to have.

A second sweep of the room revealed more details that Booth didn't want to see. The stacks of paperwork on the bedside table, what looked like X-rays on the chest of drawers, an empty wine glass next to them.

Angela's words from the previous evening came back to him, as if from another lifetime, one where he'd thought Hannah was waiting for him at a restaurant and Bones was in front of him, refusing to go.

_You don't notice her._

And, God, he didn't. Not anymore. He'd trained himself not to. He didn't let himself think about what his spending every night after work with Hannah (when, six months ago, he would have been with Bones) meant for her. Didn't let him think about how he was leaving her alone, how everyone around her had someone else.

He'd abandoned her. _Him_, the one who'd always tried to teach her that people stuck around. He was no better than her father…maybe worse. Whether or not it was the right choice, Max had left his daughter behind to protect her.

Booth had only been protecting himself.

Without realizing what he was doing, Booth had drifted closer to the window, and now he reached out and touched the tiny pig figurine, taking it in his hand.

For the first time, Booth gave into the urge he'd felt since he'd gotten that first phone call last night, hanging his head and letting tears fill his eyes at last.

~(B*B)~

As soon as Booth disappeared into Brennan's bedroom, his face twisted in obvious devastation, Angela inwardly pushed away an influx of guilt. She knew no one was blaming Booth more than Booth himself, and it was obvious in his face how much he was torturing him.

She'd just been so angry at him lately. He treated Brennan like an especially friendly colleague, friendly enough but distant and disinterested. Brennan just took it, clearly believing that she deserved it. She even defended him on the rare occasion that Angela said something against him, babbling on about the anthropological need to be around one's mate. Or something.

But Brennan was miserable. And withdrawn. And, as time went by, increasingly disconnected from everything around her.

Hodgins stood, moving into the living room where the overturned furniture was. He reached out and touched Angela's hand as he straightened. "You okay?"

Angela shook her head vehemently, glancing at the blood on the floor. "Not really, no."

Hodgins squeezed her hand once, then commented gently, "You know he's giving himself hell, Ange."

Tears welling instantly in her dark eyes, Angela protested, "What he said to her, Jack…"

"I know."

"..she would have been at the lab if he hadn't gone off on her like that. She…" her voice caught. "She would have been safe."

"I know. But he didn't know. None of us did…we didn't stop her. We didn't even think she might be in danger."

"That's because he acts like she's not important, Jack!" Angela burst out, her voice fierce. This, at least, wasn't a new conversation for them. "Six months ago we'd have known Brennan would have been one of the best ways to get to Booth! Now…now it's like she's no different than any of us. Maybe worse."

"I know," Hodgins agreed, his voice calm, his bright eyes holding hers, serious but soft. "It seems that way. But you don't really believe it. And as much as he's trying…" Hodgins nodded in the direction of the bedroom, indicating Booth. "…he doesn't either."

~(B*B)~

Booth's head was still bent low, hot tears dripping on the pig cradled in his hands when he felt a hand on his back. Startled, he turned to see Angela standing over him.

"Let's go back to the lab. Come on."

He didn't move, surprised by the lack of animosity in her eyes.

After a beat, Angela added quietly, "It wasn't your fault."

He gave a harsh, hollow laugh. "I drove her away. I'm why she was here instead…instead of with us. Hannah she…she's gone _because_ of me, she _is_, but…but maybe it's not my fault. Bones…" His face twisted. "…that's on me. We both know that."

Angela didn't correct him. "You didn't know."

Booth sucked in a breath, attempting to regain control.

"Come on," Angela touched his arm gently. "Let's go to the lab."

"And do _what_?" His hands clenched into fists. "I don't know what to do…we have _nothing_ to go on. I should be able to remember, to, to tell. I have to save her." He paused, breathing ragged. "Both of them. But I don't know…"

"Maybe Hodgins will find something here," Angela tried. "Or you talking with Sweets will spark something. And when he calls again, maybe we can pull something else from the phone call." When Booth didn't answer, Angela reached out and cupped his chin, pulling his gaze toward hers, her eyes glinting. "You _cannot _give up, Booth. Okay? We'll find them."

Slowly, he nodded. "Okay." Bracing himself on the window sill, Booth stood, pocketing the pig in his hand without realizing what he was doing. "Let's go."

~(B*B)~

"_It means one of you gets to live." He chuckled, eyes brightening in sheer delight at his own plan. "And I'm going to let Agent Booth choose who." _

It had been nearly five minutes since their captor had revealed the crux of his master plan, and neither Brennan or Hannah had said anything since.

Brennan was sitting a corner, legs stretched out, arms wrapped lightly around her sore ribs, while Hannah sat on the opposite corner of the small room, her knees drawn up against her chest.

Brennan hadn't missed the brief flash of relief through Hannah's eyes when they'd heard about the choice. Of course, she'd wiped it immediately in favor of a more shocked reaction, but Brennan had seen it.

And she didn't blame her.

_I don't need you._

That was the last thing Booth had said. He'd made that clear over the past few months. He needed Hannah, not her.

His choice was going to be pretty simple.

But all Brennan could think was how horrible this was going to be for him. If what this man wanted was to torture Booth, he'd succeeded. Booth still felt guilty for enemies he'd killed years ago as a sniper.

This would kill him….whether he needed her or not.

It was Hannah who broke the silence after awhile, and Brennan wasn't even sure the other woman was speaking to her or just herself. "God…poor Seeley."

Brennan set her jaw and, surprised by her own intensity, countered, "Booth will find us." As soon as she said, Brennan realized that she believed it. "Both of us. He won't choose, he'll get here before he has to."

Hannah looked up from her folded hands to stare at Brennan. "You think?"

She was genuinely asking, and it reminded Brennan that this was one side of Booth Hannah wasn't yet familiar with. "Of course." She paused, addressing the opposite wall more than Hannah. "He always does."

Hannah nodded, her expression thoughtful. "He did say he'll give Seeley four hours to decide..."

"Booth can do that," Brennan murmured. "He's already had awhile, so four more hours should…he can find us."

"Even without any connection to your last case? I mean, _you_ don't recognize this guy, so it's obviously a really old one."

"He'll find us," Brennan repeated firmly. Hannah didn't reply, and after a moment, Brennan lifted her head and gazed at the door, scrutinizing. "Although, it seems reckless of our assailant to continually enter that door unarmed. Maybe we could-"

"He isn't unarmed," Hannah interrupted. "He has a gun."

For the first time, Brennan looked at the other woman. "I haven't seen one."

Hannah smiled grimly. "He was nice enough to show me before you got here." She shrugged. "Besides you're in no shape to fight anyone. Martial arts training or not."

"I'm fine," Brennan repeated automatically, gingerly getting to her feet to prove it, her face muscles tightening as she suppressed a wince. "And I'm very skilled at combat."

"I've heard," Hannah replied. "But maybe we should give Seeley some time."

Brennan nodded noncommittally, her mind reeling, ahead, planning.

~(B*B)~

Booth had been talking to Sweets for nearly an hour, and he was getting increasingly frustrated by his inability to make a connection.

Hodgins had gotten back not too long ago and was running DNA samples from some hair he didn't think belonged to Brennan.

After awhile, Booth cut Sweets off mid question, standing up and rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, I can't…this isn't helping, I have to…." He turned his back on the younger man, walking away and muttering to himself, "I have to think."

"Hey Booth?"

"WHAT?" He nearly roared, roaring on whoever was behind him. It was Hodgins, who merely raised an eyebrow and held up his hands in surrender.

"Hey, take it easy. We ran the DNA through the system, no hits on the criminal database."

Booth stared at him, and for a moment he couldn't see straight. "So we still have…_nothing_."

"Well, we know it wasn't someone you put in jail. That's got to narrow it down, right? Not many people still on the streets with a grudge against you, right?"

His voice barely audible, Booth glared at Hodgins with a rage not really directed at him. "So the past thirteen hours have been waste of time?"

Hodgins grimaced a little, his voice sympathetic. "I'm sorry."

Booth turned away, a scream forming in his throat. He was dangerously close to losing it. They were no closer to answers than they had been thirteen hours ago…he had no new ideas, no clue of where to start. Hodgins had confirmed the blood on the floor was Brennan's and this, the confirmation that at least one of them was hurt, had only heightened his sense of urgency…as well as his steadily rising terror.

His phone rang.

Every head on the platform turned in his direction. They were all pretending to work, going through files they'd already read, looking for people who were involved but not captured…all of it a façade to make things seem less hopeless than they were.

Booth snatched up the phone, strangely grateful for the call just because it afforded him a connection, some sort of action. He remembered the recorder at the last moment and grabbed it, too.

Without bothering with even a false greeting, Booth demanded, "What did you do to her?"

There was a pause. Then, the voice spoke, "Good morning to you, too, Agent Booth."

His voice low and dangerously quiet, Booth repeated, emphasizing every word. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"Oh, oh, you went to the apartment. Yes, left that one a little messier than I'd have liked, but…your partner proved a bit more difficult than your girlfriend. I never wanted to hurt her, you know. She's done nothing to me."

Booth closed his eyes, biting back the rising, acidic taste of bile in his throat. He had to know if she was okay, but he wouldn't allow himself to ask, to give this asshole the satisfaction. So he waited, hoping for a hint.

"But don't worry. Nothing too horrible." There was a pause, as he let the unspoken _yet_ at the end of the sentence hanging palpably over the phone lines. "As I said…we're just now getting to the good part."

Booth's frustration was at a high, and he was fighting the urge to hurl his phone across the room, to use every obscenity he knew on this bastard, to scream until his throat tore open. The only way he could keep control, it seemed, was to barely whisper, though each word still shook with poorly concealed rage. "And _what_, exactly, is the _good part_?"

"Well, we'll start with the good news. One of them gets to come back to you. Safe and sound."

"Listen, you son of a bitch, if you hurt _either _of the, I swear to God, _I will find you_ and-"

The voice on the other end ignored Booth. "One I won't touch. The other…won't be so lucky."

Booth swallowed hard, waiting for more. When nothing came, he gritted out, "Fine. I'll bite. What, what does that mean? What the hell do you mean, one of them?"

"Well, you must have known _someone _had to die here, Agent Booth. But here's the fun part…you get to choose which one."

Booth's chest froze; the words seemed to linger, ringing in his ears, not yet sinking in deeper than that. "What?" he replied dumbly.

"You have four hours," the voice continued. "I'll call back…and you'll tell me who I should bring back to you. The other one, well-"

"_No_," his voice was louder than he'd intended. "No. No way. You…you sick bastard, if you hurt _either _of them-"

"Yes, you said that. It's getting quite boring." He laughed a little. "Four hours."

"No," This time, the word was less determined…he merely came off as panicky. Booth's heart was slamming, so hard it physically hurt. "I won't do that."

"Fine. But you realize by choosing neither…you _are_ making choice. You're choosing for both of them to die. Up to you of course. Four hours."

There was a click, the line going dead.

Four hours. Four hours and he had nothing to go on.

He raised a shaking hand to his face, his palm instantly soaked with the slick, cold sweat overtaking him.

"Booth?" Angela's voice, tentative and shaking, was the only thing that reminded Booth of the others' presence, the fact that they were waiting for an update. "What happened?"

His hand was tight around the recorder, the proof of what had just happened. "We have to…we have to find them. In four hours, we…we have four hours to find them."

Behind him, the others exchanged horrified looks. "What…what happens in four hours?" Sweets asked quietly.

He couldn't look at them. "We just…we have to find them."

After a moment, Angela approached him. "Okay, give me the tape, I'll see what sounds I can extrapolate this time…"

As the artist held her outstretched hand toward him, Booth took an instinctive step back, irrationally wanting to keep the tape from them, not wanting them to know.

He couldn't. He'd be killing one of them. But he had only four hours…and if, at that time, he didn't choose…he'd be killing _both_ of them.

"Booth, give it to me," Angela said, her eyebrows drawing together, confusion evident.

He shook his head dazedly.

"Seeley," Cam's voice was serious, the kind of tone that left no room for argument. "What did he say?"

Booth stared at them, his chest tightening. He couldn't keep this from him. "He wants me to choose," his voice splintered. "In four hours I…I have to choose who dies."

Four shocked faces stared back at him. For a long moment, no one knew what to say. It was Angela wh, finally, dared to ask, "But…who are you-"

"No," he cut her off harshly. "No, I can't. I…I can't. We _will_ find them." He shoved the recorder at Angela. "I just…I just have to think. I can figure this out, I _know_ this guy. I can find them."

He turned his back on them, walking away, pretending not read the anxious question on every face.

_But what if you can't?_

~(B*B)~

Judging from Hannah's steady breathing in the corner, Brennan was fairly certain the other woman had drifted off.

She was glad for the silence, the ability to think.

There was no way of knowing if Booth knew yet about the choice he might have to make.

More than anything else, she didn't want him to have to do that. Brennan knew that, if Booth couldn't save both of them, would be one mark on his cosmic balance sheet he'd never be able to cancel out.

The guilt would eat away at him, torture him. It would change him, for good. And for the past five months, Brennan had only wanted him to be happy.

She missed him. She'd been lonely. But Brennan could handle solitude; she was used to it, and she'd never allowed herself to expect much beyond that.

Booth needed someone. Someone capable of loving him. Someone who could give him the marriage and family he always wanted.

Someone with an open heart.

More than anyone she knew, Booth deserved to be happy. Brennan couldn't let this man ruin that.

She would not let him choose.

After awhile, a vague plan taking shape in her mind, Brennan moved quietly around the room until she was beside the door. Squinting through the relative darkness, Brennan mimicked Hannah's position and leaned against the wall just beside the door. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep.

Time passed, agonizingly slow. But eventually, Brennan's patience was rewarded…the door creaked open.

Her breath freezing her lungs, Brennan forced her eyes to stay closed, silently willing the door not to close immediately.

It didn't…and after a moment, Brennan heard footsteps, moving further into the room, somewhere between Brennan and the door.

She didn't wait. She opened her eyes and, in a quick motion, seized the man's legs and sent him crashing to the floor.

He grunted as he landed, and across the room, Hannah's eyes snapped open just in time to see Brennan struggling to her feet.

"Hannah, come on, _go_."

Barely awake, Hannah stood up a little stiffly, but the man was faster. He seized her wrist, using her to pull himself up and immediately wrapping an arm around her.

And sure enough, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a gun.

He pointed it first at Brennan, who was half in the doorway, half outside, ready to run. "Try running. You won't get far in this place." Then he turned the gun and pressed it against Hannah's temple. "You take another step out the door, I'll shoot her. And I'll be a few steps behind you…and you'll _wish_ I'd make it that quick."

Brennan felt her heart sinking; somewhere, she knew she was beat. Still, she shot back, "You do that your plan's ruined. There's no choice anymore."

The man seemed to jab the gun a little harder against the other woman's hair. "Somehow I think finding both of your bodies will be sufficient enough to make Booth suffer. Don't you?" Brennan didn't answer, hatred burning inside her unlike any she'd felt before. "Get inside. Now."

She didn't move.

He clicked the safety.

"Okay." Brennan stepped back into the room, moving quickly away from the door. "Alright."

Instantly, their captor let go of Hannah, shoving her unceremoniously to the floor. He started toward the door, seemingly eager to get between the means of escape and Brennan

As he walked past her, silent, without warning, he grabbed her arm, spun her toward him in a quick motion, and slammed the barrel of the gun across her face.

Brennan crumpled, from the surprise as much as from the force. Her cheekbone was on fire, blood pouring instantly, soaking her face for the second time that day.

Walking casually away, the man made a point to step down hard on Brennan's broken fingers, now sprawled out on the floor. She couldn't stop a cry of pain from escaping, and was dimly aware of Hannah's sharp intake of breath behind her.

Brennan lay on the floor, desperately fighting nausea, when his voice washed over her, as matter of fact as though nothing had just occurred. "I let Agent Booth know of our terms about half an hour ago. Just thought you'd want to know."

The door clicked shut.

Brennan squeezed her eyes shut, tears filling them, half from pain, half from fury. She didn't move from the floor.

After a long moment, Brennan felt a shaky hand rest on her back. "Temperance?" Hannah's voice, too, still sounded shaky. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she answered, through gritted teeth.

"Thank you," Hannah whispered. "I'm sorry I wasn't faster…"

Brennan slowly pulled herself up to a sitting position, though ducking her face until she got her emotions in check. "You weren't in a particularly convenient location for it…I didn't think that through."

"Still. Thank you for…for saving me."

Brennan swiped her sleeve under her eyes, under the pretense of pressing it against the blood on her cheek, which completely numb. Looking up at last, she asserted, "It's fine, it was...it was my fault he had you like that. And I'm…I'm not letting him do that to Booth."

For a long stretch of silence, Hannah just stared her searchingly, in a way that made Brennan uneasy. Finally, though, she just nodded. "Right."

Brennan turned away from the inquisitive stare of Hannah, moving again toward a corner, leaning against the wall and pressing her sleeve against her throbbing cheek with her good hand.

She was beginning to doubt her ability to escape…_maybe_ she could have done it. But she couldn't get Hannah out, too. Not in such a small space. Not when he had that gun.

It didn't change things. She wouldn't let Booth make the choice.

She'd have to take it out of his hands.

That way, he wouldn't have the guilt. Brennan knew Booth well enough to know he was most likely torturing himself over what he'd said to her, the fact that those could be the last words he spoke to her…a fact he would hold in great importance.

But if Hannah went back…Brennan could get a message to him. She could forgive him. And at least he wouldn't be the one choosing her fate. She'd take away the responsibility.

And, privately, somewhere in the deepest, private part of Brennan's mind, she acknowledged another benefit.

She'd never have to know. Not for sure. Brennan was nearly positive Booth would choose Hannah if he had to. She was a much bigger part of his life now. She was his girlfriend. His mate. Anthropologically, that had much more significance than a colleague, a partner.

Besides. Booth needed Hannah, Brennan reminded herself. He didn't need _her_.

But this way…it would forever be a theory, a hypothesis. Highly probable, with a large amount of evidence.

Just never tested. Never proven. Not for sure.

And that, maybe, Brennan could bear.

_So there's that chapter. Obviously a pretty significant one…but much more is coming. I' (kudos to those of you who, to an extent, predicted what Brennan might consider doing…though there are more twists coming.) I'm pretty sure the next chapter should be up pretty quickly, because it's one I've been really excited to write since the beginning. Though this is still just the beginning for Booth and Brennan (and the others, of course)…hope it's still exciting for everyone. _

_Again, reviews are the best motivation of all time. You guys are the best._


	4. Rescued

_Author's Note: Hey everyone! Sorry for the slight delay on getting this posted, but I had some computer trouble (still on a loaner laptop, actually) and lost parts of the chapter. Then I add two essays due on the same day, and now I'm on fall break, and I'm spending it at a friend's house so not as much lounging/writing time as I might have._

_That said, this is an important chapter, so I hope it makes up for the wait. And the wait should be much shorter next time, especially considering I'm already having hiatus withdrawal. Song this chapter is "Rescued" by Jack's Mannequin, very fitting, very gorgeous and I highly recommend it._

**Chapter Three**

Rescued

_Two to one  
Static to the sound of you and I  
Undone for the last time  
And there this was  
Hiding at the bottom of your  
Swimming pool some September  
And don't you think  
I wish that I could stay  
Your lips give you away_

I can hear it, a jet engine  
Through the center of the storm  
And I'm thinking I'd  
Prefer not to be rescued

03:02:27.

One of the largest monitors in the lab had been dedicated, once again, to a clock, the time Booth had to find them rapidly falling away.

Booth was crouched on the stairs of the platform, tearing through the much smaller stack of folders that held information of cases he hadn't closed. It had been Sweets' tentatively offered suggestion that, since DNA had proved the guy they were looking for had never been convicted of a crime, they check for any victims families that may blame Booth for not getting justice.

Every member of the team was close by, on the platform, but everyone was actively avoiding glancing over at him. There was total silence, aside from the quiet mutterings of Sweets' phone calls, following up any leads Booth half-heartedly passed along.

Truthfully, none of them clicked with Booth. As his career had progressed, he'd had fewer and fewer unsolved cases. As a result, he remembered every grieving family, every victim he hadn't been able to avenge…he'd never let those cases go.

And Booth believed that those families knew he'd done everything he could. They knew he was the one who kept pushing, who kept the case active for months or even years after leads went cold.

But still he turned files over to Sweets if anyone fit a part of the criteria in the updated profile the psychologist had worked up. He was grasping.

But just as the clock dropped below the three hour mark, he closed the final unsolved case folder and tossed it to the side.

He was out of ideas.

Booth swiveled and glanced back, the neon numbers of the clock seeming to tick away all the faster. Hodgins and Cam were running tests on samples taken from Brennan's apartment, but Booth knew they were on the third or fourth tests…they, too, were grasping.

His only hope was Angela, who was working on the latest recording.

Booth fixed his gaze on the artist, who was staring at a monitor, headphones on, a distressed look on her face.

Sweets voice interrupted him; he'd hung up the phone. "Booth? Another dead end."

"Yeah," Booth replied, unsurprised. "Nothing here, either." He stood, shaking his fingers out spasmodically, trying to keep the tight knot of fear in his chest from uncoiling. "Angela? Anything?"

The artist shook her head, her voice shaky when she replied, "No just…just a really loud air conditioner hum. Nothing we can use."

"Nothing new here, either," Cam put in flatly.

Booth nodded too hard for too long. "Okay…okay…" His voice dropped to whisper. "Okay, okay, okay, okay…"

He kept muttering to himself, his back to the others, unable to stop the rhythmic mantra and face the fact that he was out of options.

"Booth?" Hodgins voice came from behind him.

_Well, you must have known _someone_ had to die here, Agent Booth._

"Seeley, what do you need us to do?"

_You get to choose which one._

"Booth?"

_But you realize by choosing neither…you are making a choice. You're choosing for both of them to die._

"Maybe it's worth getting some help…"

At that, finally, Booth whirled around, pinning his gaze on Sweets, who instantly looked like he regretted the last comment. "You want to call in the FBI?"

"I…no…."

"You realize he said no other FBI?"

"Yes, but…"

Booth was unconsciously advancing on the kid, his voice low and uneven. "But you think that's worth the risk? Because you think there's something they'll think of doing that I won't? That I'm not doing _everything I possibly can_?"

Sweets' eyes were huge. "I…I'm sorry."

"Seeley," Cam's voice was firm. "You need to calm down. It's okay to take a second."

Booth's fist collided with the monitor of the clock. "I _can't_ take a second, I don't…I don't _have_ a second." He stared dizzily at the numbers on the screen. "Where are they?" He didn't mean to say it out loud, but it came out anyway, a soft, desperate plea. Then, a little louder, as though he was addressing the others, "Where are they?" The neon in front of him began to blur, and then Booth was bellowing, deep from his chest, "WHERE ARE THEY?"

No one answered. They didn't need to point out that, of course, they didn't know. They couldn't.

But he _should_ know. He'd spoken to this guy, it had to be someone he knew…all Booth had to do was remember. But he was failing them.

He turned and walked off the platform.

~(B*B)~

Brennan absently lifted her unbroken fingers to her cheek, tender and swollen, patches of blood drying on her skin.

"I wonder how long it's been," Hannah's voice floated out of the darkness for the first time since the man had left. She still sounded shaky.

"About an hour since he left," Brennan replied automatically. "So, if we believe what he said, it's been about an hour and a half since he gave Booth the time frame."

There was a pause. Then, sounding a little bewildered, "How do you know that?"

"I've got a highly developed temporal sense," Brennan answered absently. She'd spent the past hour trying to develop a plan to accomplish her goal: taking away Booth's choice.

It wasn't going to be easy…it relied on psychological manipulation, not exactly Brennan's strength.

But she'd learned a lot watching Booth over the years…_he _was good with people. And she'd spent a lot of time watching him (along with Sweets on occasion) manipulate people in interrogation.

She just had to be prepared.

Another twenty minutes passed in silence before the door slung open. For a moment, their captor hovered in the door, as though waiting for Brennan to make another escape attempt.

When nothing happened, he regarded her with a slight smirk. "Good. You seem to have learned. Finally. You were slow to pick up on it, for such a genius."

Brennan gritted her teeth, her hatred for this man filling her, very nearly distracting her from her objective.

It had been nearly two hours. That meant Booth had another two to find them.

Brennan wanted to give him more time; she knew he was doing everything he could to find them, and still believed he could come through.

But based on the frequency of their captors visits over the course of the day, it would be dangerous to assume that he would come by again before the end of the four hour period.

So before she could talk herself into waiting, Brennan heard herself saying, "Actually, I need to speak to you. Alone."

The statement through off both Hannah and their captor. Brennan saw Hannah sit up straighter, her eyebrows knitting together, while the man standing above them just stared down, suspicious.

Brennan's stomach clenched slightly; this was the part of her plan she'd been least prepared for, and everything would fall apart if he refused. Nervously, she added, "It's about Booth. I think you'll find it important."

After a pause, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the gun, very deliberately releasing the safety. "I hope you aren't wasting my time."

Brennan stood, a little lightheaded with relief. She kept her gaze fixed on the man, not glancing at Hannah. "I'm not."

He stared back, dark eyes squinting. For the first time, Brennan took the time to study his face, observing the various distinguishing features. He had a large mandible, a lengthy frontal bone, a narrow zygomatic. Small, dark eyes, which seemed even smaller because of his bizarre lack of eyebrows. There was a small, dark mole by his left ear, nearly covered by his messy black hair.

Brennan made a mental note of all those facts as he considered her.

Finally, he swiveled the gun in Hannah's direction. "You. Get up, grab those ropes."

For a second, Brennan's lungs constricted in momentary panic; then, as she realized his intention, she exhaled slowly.

Directing Hannah vaguely by waving the gun, the man demanded, "Tie her wrists up. Behind her back, like I had them, go on."

Hannah slowly did so, taking care not to jostle Brennan's broken fingers. Feeling the other woman staring at her, obviously hoping for some sort of hint about what was happening, Brennan never removed her eyes from the man in front of her.

"Good. Now sit down." Hannah did, and the man came up behind Brennan, seizing the ropes in one hand and driving the gun into her back with another. Cutting his eyes at Hannah as he led Brennan out of the room, he warned, "We'll be back."

~(B*B)~

Angela knocked softly on the half open door to Brennan's office, but Booth didn't look up.

He was sitting on the couch, cradling something small in his hands, staring at it with a fixation that suggested the tiny object held the answer to his current predicament, if he could only look hard enough.

"Hi," she said gently.

Booth's head jerked up, his eyes wild.

Angela tilted her head, realizing what Booth was holding was a small toy pig, one she vaguely recognized but had never understood. "Did…did you take that from Brennan's room?"

"I…yes." Booth pocketed the small toy, then rubbed his face hard with both hands. "What's going on, did someone…did someone find something?"

"No, no one found anything…" Angela paused, considering, then decided to go for honesty. "No one's _going_ to find anything, Booth. We have nothing else to go on. You know that."

Pressing the heel of his hands over his eyes, Booth spoke in a low, rough voice, "If you've come to tell me I'm failing them both, it's okay. I already know that." He lifted his head to look at her. "I'm the only one who would be able to come up with something, and I'm sitting here, trying to remember, I am, but…I can't." His voice cracked. "I just can't."

"Booth, no one expects you to know who this person is. There are so many possibilities and there's not much to go on…how could you know?"

His lips trembled, and Booth pressed them together, emotions overwhelming him. He pulled the hand still clenched around Jasper back out of his pocket and stared down at the pig until his vision cleared.

Angela throat narrowed, tears rushing to her eyes for the hundredth time of the past few hours. She folded her hands over her abdomen, as though to protect her unborn daughter from the sadness and destruction around them.

"Booth…" The single syllable wavered, and Angela sucked in a breath before trying again. "Booth it's been over two hours."

"Yeah, I know," he whispered thickly.

"What if…" Angela glanced down at her hands, wincing a little. There was no good way to ask this. "What happens if you don't remember? If he calls back?"

For a moment, silence stretched between them, and Angela was sure he wasn't going to answer. Then, Booth lifted his head and stared at her, his expression anguished. "I can't choose, right? That…that's horrible, I'd be…" His face twisted. "…_killing_ one of them."

"No," Angela whispered back. "No, _he_ would be. You…you'd be saving one."

But Booth was already shaking his head, rejecting the words, the reality. "No, no, I can't. I, I can't choose, I…how can I?"

Angela leaned forward, her eyes boring into his. "I know. But how can you _not_?"

~(B*B)~

Brennan had been shoved roughly into a room even smaller than the one she and Hannah had been held in; in fact, it seemed to be nothing more than a supply closet, though the metal shelves that lined the perimeter were empty now.

The man stood in the doorway, barely two feet away from her, his gun still gripped tightly in his hand.

He was waiting.

"You had to know," Brennan began, her voice much weaker than she intended. She swallowed, set her jaw, and started again. "You had to know you weren't giving Booth a very difficult choice."

"Oh, really?"

"Really." Brennan forced herself to maintain eye contact. "I'm his partner. Hannah's his girlfriend. They live together. They'll most likely get married." Her gaze wavered. "He loves her."

"Maybe so," the man acknowledged. "But even if he picks her, and the choice is easy…he'll live with that guilt forever. He'll never be able to forget it. And he'll never be able to be with her the same way, because her being alive will always mean someone else is dead."

There was something knowing about the way the man said this, and Brennan made another mental note.

"That's true," she agreed. "But I'd like to propose another option."

He snorted slightly, almost mocking. "And what is that?"

Brennan drew a breath. This was going to be the most difficult task: convincing him the precise opposite of what she believed: that taking the choice away would hurt Booth more, rather than less.

"Take Hannah back. Don't wait out the time limit. Don't let him choose."

Scoffing, he made a grab for the ropes around her wrists. "Like I've said. You _don't_ seem like such a genius."

Biting back panic, Brennan shuffled back the best she could, away from his grasp. "Wait, just…just listen. If Booth makes the choice, he'll be guilty, yes. But he'll know he did the right thing. He'll know he _had_ to choose. But…but if you send Hannah back early, she'll tell him why. She'll tell him I sacrificed myself because I knew what his choice would be. And that will produce far more guilt."

"And why's that?" He still seemed skeptical, but at least mildly interested. Brennan kept going, giving the speech she'd been fine tuning for the past hour.

"Did you know Booth's a devout Catholic? He goes to church every Sunday. While I find that sort of faith in an unseen deity foolish, Booth swears by it. And as a devoted follower of the standard Catholic doctrine, he is strictly opposed to suicide, in all forms. And that is what Booth would consider such a sacrifice by me to be…a suicide."

Brennan paused, trying to gauge his reaction. She couldn't read his expression, so she simply continued, "We had a fight. Just before you attacked me, we fought. He said some terrible things." Again, Brennan momentarily broke eye contact, frustrated by how much the truth of that statement stung, even now, when it honestly shouldn't have mattered. "That's how I know he'll choose her. And Booth will know that."

Silence fell and Brennan's chest began to tighten unpleasantly. There was no backup plan, no alternative experiment. If this failed, she had no idea what to do.

Nerves overtaking, Brennan began to speak again, "So in conclusion…Booth is morally opposed to suicide. He would believe me to be destined for an eternity in Hell. And he would torture himself knowing that the last things he said to me made me so utterly certain I wouldn't be the one saved. So you should send Hannah back now. You'd be doing it either way."

More silence. Then, at last, "Why are you telling me this? What's in it for you?"

Brennan sighed; she hadn't prepared for this, having forgotten the strange obsession most people had with discerning the motivation behind every action. Caught off guard, she eventually offered a quiet, small bit of truth, "Because I don't believe in Hell. Or Heaven. So that makes no difference to me. I'd just…I'd rather die without knowing for sure that Booth killed me. Even indirectly."

The man stared at her. He almost nodded.

"It's worse for him, but better for me," she told him, half the statement a lie. "And you've said you only care about hurting him."

~(B*B)~

"Bones, she…she has this really rare skill. She's the best in her field," These words, spoken in the mechanical tone of memorized book report, were the first Booth had spoken in the last fifteen minutes.

Angela closed her eyes. "Don't…"

"But…but Hannah's my girlfriend, she's….that's the obvious answer, isn't it…"

"Please just stop…" Angela begged. She knew she couldn't try to convince him of anything, she really did. But deep down there was some part of her that _couldn't_ believe he wouldn't choose Brennan.

"You know, we don't even know if he's telling the truth," Booth continued, the pitch of his voice creeping higher, a note of hysteria seeping in. "And Bones was taken later, so statistically it's more likely that she's still alive."

Tears filled Angela's eyes and she looked at him almost angrily, "Stop _it_. Just _stop_. Do you really think you have to justify this to me? Especially with this crap about careers and statistics?"

His was body shaking violently, and Booth's hands curled into fists, and he pressed them against either side of his head, a nearly demented expression flickering across face for a moment. He looked seconds away from striking himself. "No, no, I…I have to do this rationally, I have to…"

Angela shook her head. "This isn't about being rational. Okay?"

Booth stilled momentarily, then said quietly, almost to himself. "Brain and heart."

The statement meant nothing to Angela. "Sure, okay. But Booth, the point is…" She reached out and placed her hand over his, Jasper between them. "…stop with the facts. The statistics. What are you feeling, right now?"

"I'm feeling…" Slowly his face crumpled, childlike, and Booth's voice splintered as he choked out, "I'm feeling that if the last thing I say to Bones is _I don't need you_ then I'll die." A strangled sob followed that declaration, tears suddenly slipping hard and fast. "I really think I will." He ducked his head low then, choking back sobs.

Angela, too, was crying. "Okay." She put a hand on his back, briefly. "Alright."

Abruptly, swiping his sleeve across his face, Booth stood. "Damn it, why am I standing here? I've got almost two hours left. I can do this….I can."

~(B*B)~

Brennan's heart was throbbing painfully when the man unceremoniously shoved her back into the room with Hannah. She was terrified of this next part, terrified that the man would take Hannah immediately away without giving them a chance to talk.

But she'd been banking on him having at least some preparations to take care of before setting Hannah free, and that turned out to be accurate. "Be right back," he leered at two of them, closing the door behind him.

Hannah wasted no time. "What the hell is going on? What was that all about?"

Brennan shook her head dismissively, "We don't have a lot of time, he's going to be coming to get you soon…"

"Get me?"

"Yes, to take you to Booth," Brennan's tone was businesslike, a complete contrast to Hannah's panicked confusion.

"But…I don't understand. It hasn't been four hours."

"No, it hasn't," Brennan carefully kept her voice clipped and unemotional. "I told him to go ahead and take you back. This way Booth won't have to choose."

Even in the darkness, she could see how wide Hannah's eyes were. "You…you can't do that. He could still find us, _you_ said Seeley would find us."

"He might have," Brennan replied calmly, though her impatience was mounting. "But with the limited time frame I was no longer comfortable with the risk." She drew a breath, ready to launch in to the final speech she'd planned. "Now when you get back-"

"You can't do this, Temperance, you just…you _can't_.. Seeley will kill me for letting you decide this..."

"No, he won't," Her voice was tight but steady. "He'll just be glad he didn't have to." Finally, Hannah seemed to have only silence. So Brennan began again, "When you get back you'll need to tell them everything you can remember. Tell them it smells like paint, tell them we walked downstairs so it's probably a basement. Tell them…"

Hannah didn't interrupt as Brennan moved through details of their surroundings, some of which were obvious and others the journalist wouldn't have thought to mention. Then, Brennan moved on to the captor.

"They may have assumed this, but confirm that I've never seen him before, so he has no connection with any recent cases. Sit down with Angela and describe his face, her sketches can be very accurate. Tell them about the no eyebrows, that's distinctive, although it could be recent. Large, square mandible, alright? And a very angular zygomatic, approximately-"

"I, I don't know what those words mean."

"Angela will."

"Right, I know, but…" Hannah sighed shakily, sounding overwhelmed. "I don't know that I'll be able to remember them."

Gritting her teeth, impatient, Brennan merely said, "Well, remember what you can. I may have succeeded in sparing Booth the burden of having to choose, but either way this man is exacting revenge on _him_. Booth will have to find him."

"Yeah, I…I know," Hannah muttered. "I'll remember."

"Good. Now, when we were in the room just now, he mentioned the effects having to choose someone will have on a person. This isn't my area of expertise, obviously, but it sounded as though he was alluding to some personal experience in which one person died because he picked another one, and his relationship with the living one was altered as a result. Tell Booth that, it may remind him of some old case."

"Okay…"

Brennan hesitated, then continued, "And…there's something else, something…I need you to tell Booth."

There was a momentary silence. Then, "Sure. Anything."

An unexpected wave of emotion crashed over Brennan, and for the first time, the tears lining the column of her throat rose, causing her words to catch in her throat as her eyes flooded.

Biting her lip hard, Brennan pushed away the thoughts of just how much she wanted Booth to know, everything she'd never told him. Because her messenger was Hannah, and besides that…this goodbye had to be about Booth, what he needed to hear.

It wasn't about what Brennan needed to say.

When she thought she'd gotten control, Brennan started, "Tell him…" It was no good; her voice broke into pieces, and almost immediately she felt Hannah's hand on her knee, but Brennan slid away just as the tears spilled over. Her hands tied uselessly behind her, Brennan could only let them fall, stinging the open cut on her cheek, literally rubbing salt in her wound.

She made a gasping sound, almost a sob, and Hannah's voice, compassionate and pitying, tried, "Temperance…"

"Please." Brennan shook her head, though the other woman couldn't see it. "Please just tell him…tell him it's okay. That I forgive him. Please do that."

Brennan hoped that was vague enough that it sounded as though she was only referring to this, the kidnapping and her inevitable death. But she had to believe Booth would know she meant everything else, especially their last conversation.

Because saving him the guilt of having to choose would be useless if he spent his life torturing himself for a moment of anger the last time they'd spoken.

"I will. I promise."

Never so glad for the darkness, Brennan ducked her head, wiping her tears on the shoulder of her shirt, then pressing her pinched, trembling lips against her shoulder until she was confident she could speak normally. "And…you'll remind him that he didn't choose, won't you? Because that's why…I couldn't let him choose. Make sure he remembers."

"I will," Hannah's voice was shaking too, now. "I'll make sure."

Brennan froze suddenly, thinking she heard footsteps. They passed by, however, but the reminder of what was coming made her braver. "And… take care of him. Make sure he's okay."

"I'll try," Hannah answered in a small voice. "I'll try but…but after this-"

"No," Brennan cut her off firmly. "No, you can't just _try_. Booth…Booth wants to get married and have a family and he deserves that. You have to make sure he's happy, alright?" Hannah didn't reply right away, and for some reason it felt very important to make sure she did. "_Please_."

"Okay. I will," Hannah whispered. Then, with barely a beat, she said, "You love him. Don't you?"

Brennan's throat was aching, literally convulsing with the effort of holding back sobs. She was suddenly so very exhausted. "I…I love Booth in…in a professional, 'atta boy kind of way. That…that's all." Another half truth. It was the best she could do, and now it was the closest she'd ever get to admitting it.

"Atta boy?" Hannah repeated.

"Yes, it's colloquial," Brennan answered thickly. "You…you don't have to tell him that part, though."

"Alright."

"Okay."

A silence stretched between them; after a moment, Hannah crawled over and begin working the knots around Brennan's wrists, but still neither spoke.

The ropes had just fallen away when the door once again swung open, their captor entering swiftly for once, grabbing Hannah by the arm and pulling her up. "Say goodbye," he muttered tauntingly.

Hannah threw Brennan a glance over her shoulder, their eyes meeting. "I'm sorry," she mouthed silently.

"Don't forget," Brennan murmured, and Hannah was barely able to nod before she was pulled fully out the door, which slammed behind them.

Brennan stood, listening to the retreating sets of footsteps echo down the hallway.

Then, finally, leaning against the cold, hard wall for support, she allowed herself to cry out loud.

_Author's Note: Have I mentioned you guys are amazing? Because you are. I love the feedback, it's the best motivator there is. So click that little button and share your thoughts haha. Next chapter coming soon._


	5. In My Veins

_A/N: Hey, everybody! I told you this would be a quick update…and you most definitely deserve. I think we almost hit a hundred reviews on last chapter, which completely blows me away! You guys are the best, and I can't tell you how much I love hearing from you and what you think about the story. I also need to go all awards show and thank the amazing **biba79 **who's been proofing for me (so you guys should thank her to, haha) and offering up her thoughts/suggestions. She's awesome and has a fic coming out fairly soon...lots of angst, just as we love, so keep an eye out._

_No more rambling from me, this chapter's song is by Andrew Belle, and it's amazing. Enjoy! f_

Chapter Four

_In My Veins_

_Nothing goes as planned  
Everything will break  
People say goodbye  
In their own special way  
All that you can rely on  
And all that you could fake  
Will leave you in the morning  
Come find you in the day  
_

"You okay, Angie?" Hodgins' voice was rich with concern; he'd found Angela hiding in Brennan's office, sitting perfectly still on the sofa, her face ashen.

She touched her stomach instinctually and nodded, grimacing, "I'm just not feeling very well."

Looking vaguely alarmed, Hodgins came and sat beside her, slipping her hand into his. "All this stress isn't good for you."

Angela gave a hollow laugh. "Not much we can do about that right now." She paused, "How much time?"

"Just a dropped below an hour," Her husband admitted quietly, eliciting a small moan from Angela. "Hey, it'll be alright. Booth'll come through, he always does."

"I don't know." Angela wasn't feeling so optimistic. "Even if he figures out who this guy is…what's the chance that we can find him in an hour? That's if Booth figures it out in the next few minutes, which doesn't seem likely."

Outside the office, Booth was getting in touch with people from Hannah's office, asking questions about when she'd left, if any of them had noticed any unusual people or vehicles loitering near the office. Cam was looking into places someone could have potentially purchased the kind of cell phone that couldn't be traced, as well a voice disguising machine. Sweets was going over case files again, keeping in mind the new information that it wasn't anyone who'd been arrested.

None of them seemed like strong last ditch efforts.

"What do you think he'll do?" Angela whispered after a moment, voicing the question on both their minds.

"I honestly don't know."

"But…" Her voice caught. "It's Bren. And it's Booth. He can't let her die, right?"

Hodgins met her eyes, his expression somber. "It's an impossible choice, babe."

Angela wiped her eyes. "I know. And I really think he's going to have to make it."

~(B*B)~

Hannah went lurching forward, colliding against the back of the seat in front of her as the car screeched to a stop.

Her whole body tensed. She was blindfolded, her hands tied behind her in the backseat. The whole drive she'd been terrified, halfway expecting it was all a trick, that soon she'd hear the click of a gun and realize, in the last split second of her life, that she was just being taken to a convenient dumping ground.

But then his voice was commanding, "Turn around." She did so, with difficulty in the cramped car, and his hands began untying her own. The ropes fell away, but he kept a grip on her wrists.

"Now in a second you're going to get out of the car and I'm going to drive away. And if you try anything stupid…" He tapped something cold, metal and round against the back of her hand. "We'll forget all about this little deal and I'll shoot you."

Hannah nodded, feeling small and stupid. For some reason, she had a feeling Brennan could have come up with some way to use this moment, to keep him from driving away and getting caught.

But she just wanted to get away from him.

"Great. Now go." He let go of her wrists, and Hannah instantly pulled the blindfold off her eyes. "Now."

Terrified, shaking, Hannah pulled open the door and jumped out into the street. She'd barely closed the door before the car was speeding away.

For a moment, she stood dazedly on the street, shivering. Her surroundings momentarily disoriented her; she'd been expecting the Hoover, or maybe even she and Booth's apartment. But after a second of blinking confusedly against the unnatural brightness of the sun, she realized she was across the street from the Jeffersonian.

Hannah started to run.

~(B*B)~

As soon as the clock had dropped below the one hour mark (which had been exactly sixteen minutes and twenty-four seconds ago), Booth had been overly aware of the cell phone in his pocket.

He knew he'd been promised four hours, but Booth was filled with an irrational panic that he would call early, and he wouldn't be ready.

Although it was starting to look very, very possible that it wouldn't matter. They were no closer than they'd been three hours ago, and he was out of ideas.

Hodgins and Angela emerged from Brennan's office. "Booth," Hodgins asked. "What can we do?"

"Um…" He turned away, not wanting to admit he had no tasks for them. There was nothing else.

His stomach lurched violently, and Booth pressed his lips together, worried he may actually be sick.

For the first time, he forced himself to accept the truth: he was going to have to choose.

"Oh, God..." He grabbed the railing on the side of the platform for support, bent over and nearly gasping for breath. Any activity behind him on the platform had ceased, giving way to total silence.

And Booth did the only thing left. He prayed.

_Please. Please don't make me do this. Please bring them both back, please don't make me choose…_

For several long moments, he was aware of nothing but his own silent, desperate pleas, until Cam's voice said his name, shocked enough to get Booth's attention.

He lifted his head, just as another voice penetrated his consciousness. "Seeley!"

Booth dimly registered her presence before Hannah slammed into him, burying her face in his chest. Booth's arms went around her automatically, but he felt strangely and suddenly disconnected.

There was a roaring in his ears, and his heart was pounding painfully in his chest. Some vague, distant part of him registered her presence and safety with relief, but for the most part, Booth felt like he was drowning in his own lack of comprehension.

She couldn't be here yet. He had forty-two minutes. He hadn't been called. She couldn't be here yet.

She couldn't be here alone.

Unless she'd escaped. His heart lifted unexpectedly, and he tightened his grip on his girlfriend.

If she'd escaped, it hadn't been alone.

Booth abruptly pulled back and, voice urgent, he demanded, "Where's Bones?"

Hannah's face fell, regret etched in her expression, "She's still there. Seeley, she-"

But Booth cut her off, already shaking his head, rejecting the scene in front of him. "No, no. No. He…he said I had four hours, no…"

"Temperance convinced him to bring me back early," Hannah admitted quietly. She touched his cheek, her eyes filling with tears. "She did it for you, she…she didn't want you to have to choose. I didn't know until it was too-"

He recoiled from her touch, his eyes wild. "How did you get back?"

Looking bewildered, Hannah answered, "He dropped me off across the street?"

"What color car?"

"B-black, but Seeley, he's already gone…"

But Booth was running before the second word had even formed, tearing out the door and into the street.

His feet pounded out a war rhythm on the street. Booth ran until his muscles were burning in protest, until his lungs felt tiny and ready to burst. He ran long after some dim part of his rationale realized he was too far behind a car.

He ran until, turning and running across the street, a blaring horn, the high pitched squeal of brakes and the skidding of concrete filled his ears and a blue van barely stopped in time to avoid running him down.

Frozen, Booth stood in the middle of the street, staring stupidly at the driver, who was mouthing something at him that seemed angry and probably expletive.

Only after a few honks of the horn did he remember how to move, and stiffly walked to the side of the road as the van sped off.

His legs, throbbing with effort, suddenly gave way beneath him, and Booth sank to his knees on the sidewalk.

The world around him was spinning. He couldn't get enough air.

It felt like drowning.

He could hear the blood pounding in his ears, but after a moment another sound cut in through them, an indecipherable, animalistic sort of sound. It was followed immediately by another one, a cross between screaming and sobbing. It sounded like an animal in pain.

It took one more before Booth realized the sound was coming from him.

Booth pressed his hands on the sidewalk, trying to focus on the texture, holding on as though it could anchor.

But he was spinning out of control, and before he could stop it, he was screaming again. They ripped out of him, one after another, never words. Booth was half out of his head, as though he was trying so hard to reject the reality around him that part of him had been removed from it.

When he came to after a good two minutes of screaming, it was only by biting on the inside of his cheek, so hard that the warm, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Booth's throat was raw, and when he looked down, he found his palms and knuckles bloody, beaten or scratched raw on the sidewalk. He didn't remember doing that.

_Well, you must have known someone had to die here, Agent Booth._

_She did it for you, she…she didn't want you to have to choose._

_Fine, go. I don't need you._

After everything he'd said to her…hell, after the way he'd treated for the past five months…she'd done this for him.

Surely this was what dying felt like. This much pain, this utter inability to move forward, it had to be.

He hadn't been exaggerating earlier, what he'd said to Angela. If Bones was gone, if she died because of him, with the last conversation he'd had with her ending so cruelly, he was sure he would die. Those were not facts he could survive, and though that assertion made no sense, he fervently believed in it.

It would kill him. He wouldn't need another reason, another cause.

But he didn't know, yet, if that had happened. This was Bones. If anyone could save herself, it was her.

He could still save her. He could save the both of them.

Booth stood shakily and walked back to the lab.

~(B*B)~

When Booth got back, he found everyone sitting in Angela's office, in a circle, Hannah the apparent focus.

Angela, though it was obvious she'd been crying and seemed on the brink of it again, was sketching a person as Hannah described him, in between fielding questions from Sweets and Cam, both of who were writing on notepads.

"Hi," he muttered, his voice scratchy from all the screaming. "What have we got?"

Hannah was staring at his hands. "Seeley, what…?"

"What have we got?" He repeated, louder, ignoring the hurt and then sympathy that flickered across Hannah's face.

"I'm working on a more specific profile…but it seems like something happened to him, probably connected to you and whatever you supposedly did to him, that closely mirrors the choice he gave you…someone lived, and someone died. That remind you of anything?"

"No," Booth said brusquely, not pointing out that they'd tried to think of anything involving a choice.

Cam tapped her pad. "They were held in basement of somewhere that smells like paint and is about a twenty minute drive away. A lot of turns."

"So that doesn't help us much."

Hodgins spoke up quickly, "Well once I get Hannah's clothes and analyze them we can find some more specific particulates."

Booth pinned his gaze on the younger man. "Then what the hell are you waiting for?"

Sighing, Hodgins glanced pointedly over at his wife, who he was sitting next to. Before Booth could protest this reasoning, Angela glanced up from her sketchpad and looked at him. "I'm fine. You should go."

"Okay," he grabbed two evidence bags behind him Booth hadn't noticed before, one containing Hannah's shoes and the other her socks. "Uh, Hannah, if you could come out as soon as you're done, I'm going to need your other clothes, too. We'll find you something to wear."

"Sure, I'll be right there," she agreed.

As her husband left the room, Angela held up a pad to Booth. "Look familiar?"

He stared at the man in the drawing, his heart sinking when no instant realization was sparked. "I don't…not really, no."

Angela's face fell, too, but all she said was, "Well it's vague. The most distinctive thing was the no eyebrows, see?"

His chest hurt, and the spinning was coming back, but forced himself to speak normally. "I don't remember anyone without eyebrows. Ever."

Angela nodded, then tossed the pad onto the table in front of him and stood quickly, ducking out of the room.

Cam stood next, and nodded for Sweets to do the same. "Hopefully Hodgins will find something on the clothes. That's our best shot."

"Tell him I'll be right out with the rest of these," Hannah told them as they left, obviously giving Booth and her a moment alone. When the room was empty, she regarded him seriously, asking softly, "Are you alright?"

Booth could feel himself losing again, and he was in danger of curling into himself, disconnecting from reality. He focused his gaze on Hannah with difficulty, trying to use her as an anchor. "I should be asking you that. I…God, I'm so sorry this happened."

"It's not your fault," she told him, standing up, but seeming to hesitate before approaching him.

"Come here," he said finally, and Hannah approached him, grateful. He pulled her into a hug. "I'm glad you're okay. You are, right?"

"I'm fine. Really." She kissed him softly. Booth returned it, but broke away after a moment; familiar as the gesture was, it left a bad taste in his mouth. Bones could be dead; how could he be doing this? Hannah didn't notice his discomfort, however; she was too busy staring at his bloody hands. Taking his wrist in her grasp, she looked up at him. "Are you?"

He pulled back, ignoring the question. But the blood made him think of something; the stain in Bones' apartment. "Is…is Bones? I mean, I know she's not…" His voice caught. "She's not safe, I know. But..did he hurt her?"

Hannah's gaze skittered away. "She's fine."

"Hannah," his voice came out harsher than he'd meant. "Don't lie to me."

Sighing, she admitted without looking at him, "She tried to get away a couple of times. She was already bleeding when he brought her in, and I think she had some broken fingers. But she still tried to get away before he went back out, so he through her against the wall and knocked her out." He made a strangled sound, and Hannah hastily added, "It was less than a minute. Then one other time…she was able to knock him down and nearly got out, but he had a gun, and…" Hannah shuddered at the memory. "Anyway, he hit her with it. It cut her face pretty bad."

Booth turned his back on his girlfriend, clenching his fists, fighting nausea. Unjustified resentment rose in him, and he felt like asking Hannah, What about you? Why didn't you fight? How are you perfectly fine? Did you try to help her? Were you glad she wanted to give herself up?

She touched his arm. "Seeley, I need to tell you something.."

Before he could stop himself, Booth shrugged her off. "You need to go change. Hodgins needs those clothes. We can still get her in time."

Hannah looked like she might protest, but then she simply nodded. "Alright."

She walked out of the room, leaving Booth alone with Angela's sketch.

~(B*B)~

Brennan was huddled in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall, shivering. She'd stopped crying long ago.

She thought of her father, and of Russ. Of Cam and Sweets and Hodgins and especially Angela, of the baby who was supposed to have her name, in some way. Angela would still do that, most likely, though it would have a much more tragic implication…in memory instead of in honor.

More than anyone, though, she thought of Booth.

Brennan wasn't sure how much time had passed before the door creaked open, and she straightened, instantly on alert. One practical thing she had decided amid all the sentimentality of the past hour or so: she was going to die fighting.

She hadn't been able to run earlier, not without risking Hannah. But now she was no longer part of the equation.

He was going to kill her. That much she was certain. She was injured and hurting and unarmed, while he had a gun and was knowledgeable about wherever they were.

But he was going to have to work for it.

"Well, that's done. Dropped your friend off," he said conversationally. He tapped his pocket, where Brennan could clearly see the gun. "Just one thing left to do."

"She'll be able to identify you, you know," Brennan told him coldly. "When Booth finds you. And he will."

The man only chuckled. "Probably. But so what? What can he do to me?"

"Put you in prison, obviously. If he doesn't kill you, of course. He's killed before."

More laughter. "Trust me, that means very little to me."

He paused, but before Brennan could question that in order to keep him talking, he pulled out his gun, almost cradling it. "And now that I've done this…I've got no reason to keep living." He laughed again, manically. "Agent Booth'll find my body when he finds yours."

Brennan stared at him, any vague strategy she'd had forgotten. "You mean all this…revenge on Booth…it's just so you can kill yourself after?"

"Always wanted to make him pay," he murmured darkly. "It's because of him I'm alone. He's why my baby sister's dead. He's why my wife hasn't spoken to me in years, why she took my kids."

Brennan couldn't imagine what kind of scenario would have put this man in that situation, or what Booth had to do with it. But she wasn't interested in asking; motivation never mattered to her.

He didn't seem to plan on expanding, either. The gun was now trained on Brennan. "Turn around."

She did, her heart pounding. "At least Booth will know I didn't suffer," Brennan murmured, almost to herself, hoping that she had correctly understood Sweets constant lectures on the 'real' meaning of reverse psychology.

The man laughed again, though this time it sounded genuine. "That's a matter of opinion. You haven't seen a mirror lately."

Brennan's hand moved automatically to her swollen cheek, but she kept speaking, "I was referring to the cause of death. A gunshot wound is simple compared to some of the things we see."

There was long silence, and when he spoke again, his voice was close to her ear, his breath against her neck. "I know what you're doing." He ran the gun slowly down her back, and Brennan shuddered. "But you reminded me of something else I wanted to do before I finish this..." The hand not covering the gun was suddenly tangled in Brennan's hair. "My wife left me so long ago…"

In a quick motion, he had Brennan shoved against a wall, the gun in his hand the only thing stopping her from attacking him. She had to be careful, she had to think this through. But it was hard to think straight when she felt shaky and sick; his intentions were more than clear as he tied her wrists together, his body keeping her pressed against the wall as he did. "And this will be something nice for Booth to discover, too. Autopsies are a beautiful thing, aren't they?'

~(B*B)~

Booth was back in Angela's office with Cam and Sweets, going over the new information Hannah had provided. So far it hadn't been very helpful.

Now he was staring at the sketch so hard his eyes ached, willing something to register.

"You'd think I'd remember someone with no eyebrows," he muttered angrily.

Sweets suddenly straightened up, his eyes taking on a strange, focused look. "Unless that's a recent occurrence."

"What are you saying?"

"Well…Hannah said he was clean shaven. The hair, yeah, it could be a wig…what if he's a cancer patient?"

Cam and Booth stared at the young psychologist, considering it.

Sweets began to warm up to his theory, "And, you know, that would explain his trigger."

"His trigger?" Cam repeated.

Sweets nodded. "We know this is an older case because it wasn't one Dr. Brennan was involved in. Since we also know he hasn't been in jail for the interim time, there had to be some sort of trigger to make him seek revenge now."

"So cancer's a trigger?"

"Dying is," Sweets explained. "He has nothing to lose."

Booth shook his head a little. "So how does that help us?"

"Um…" Sweets shrugged a little, but Cam jumped in.

"We can get the description to local oncologists. The patients probably terminal, but not sick enough yet so he couldn't pull off a double kidnapping. We know an age range and basic appearance…it's something, Seeley."

Booth stood up, nodding hard, the first bit of hope in so long igniting him. "Yeah, okay. Let's do that, then. Good job, Sweets."

He ran out of the office, determination renewed, suddenly certain that if he just got the results back from Hodgins, there'd be enough information for him to remember.

Booth hadn't yet allowed himself to consider the possibility that it might be too late.

He was heading toward the platform when he heard Hannah's voice behind him. "Seeley?"

Booth turned, glad to have something to tell her, but his face darkened as soon as he saw her.

She was wearing a long blue lab coat. The kind they'd put him in after his clothes had been removed for cleaning last Christmas.

The kind Bones always wore.

Hannah's eyebrows drew together at his expression. "You okay?" She touched his arm, but he jerked back, actually taking a few steps back.

"Why are you wearing that?"

Bewildered, Hannah glanced down, as if to remember her own outfit. "Hodgins took my clothes to test….this is all they had, I guess. Why, what's wrong?"

"Take that off."

Hannah sighed, suddenly looking exhausted. "I don't have anything else to wear. What the hell is wrong with you? Anyway, I have to talk to you-"

Booth was already backing away, his eyes fixated on a point above her head. "Just…just take that off." She was staring at him like he was certifiably insane. "Please, just…right now." He turned around, ignoring the feeling like he'd just been sucker punched in the gut. "I have to go…"

"Seeley…" Anger pulsed through her tone now, but still Booth kept walking. "Damnit, Seeley, I _promised_ her-"

At that, Booth froze. "Bones?"

Frustration palpable, Hannah replied, "Yes, _Bones_. She wanted me to tell you something."

Throat constricting before he even heard it, Booth nodded once. "Okay, yeah. Wh…what?"

"That it's okay, and she forgives you," Hannah said softly. "She really wanted me to tell you that."

Booth's heart felt like it was being cleaved in two. Hot tears pricked at his eyes and he closed them.

He was sinking, that's what this felt like. Because he knew what Bones meant, what she was forgiving him for. And she was wrong. It wasn't okay. It could never be okay that he said what he did, just like it could never be okay that she was gone.

Oh, God.

She was gone.

Because what reason could he have for keeping her alive?

She was gone, because she didn't want him to have to choose and the last thing he said to her was I don't need you and he barely noticed her for the past five months and he couldn't even remember the last time they went to the diner or sat at the bar together and even with all that she'd done this for him and she'd wanted to forgive him and make him think it was okay but it wasn't and nothing would ever be okay again…

A dry sob escaped him involuntarily, and Hannah's face was etched with sympathy. "Oh, honey…" She tried to close the distance between them, her arms out, but he stumbled backwards, closing his eyes so he didn't have to look at her in Bones' lab coat.

Hannah was alive because Bones wasn't (or at least wouldn't be soon).

And that was all he could think when she looked at him.

"Sorry…God, I'm sorry…" He stammered, not exactly sure who he was apologizing to, just before he turned and left her behind.

~(B*B)~

Moments later, he ducked into Brennan's office to find Angela, lying on the sofa with a cold washcloth over her forehead.

Booth froze; he hadn't expected anyone to be inside. Stupidly, mostly to alert her to his presence, "What are you doing?"

Angela didn't look up, merely snapped, her voice bitter, "Why? Are you going to accuse me of taking a break, too? And then maybe yell at me for being alone and unloved? Say you don't need me? Probably shouldn't, though, Hodgins'll kill you if I get kidnapped, too."

When she was met with only silence, Angela glanced back, and instantly sat up, horrified by the crumpled, guilt-stricken expression on his face.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry. That was…unnecessary and cruel and..."

"Completely correct," he muttered thickly, Bones' forgiveness ringing, unwelcome and undeserved, in his head.

"Yeah, but…not what you need right now…" Angela's face twisted, and she started to cry, "I'm just really scared, and I want to help but there's nothing for me to do and I can't believe she did this, except I totally can because it's for _you_…" Booth sucked in a ragged breath, earning him another, "Sorry."

"No, you're right." Rubbing a hand tiredly over his face, Booth sat down next to Angela. "Are you alright? You've been up for like forty hours, that can't be good for the baby. You could slee-"

"No," Angela cut him off. "I'll sleep when I know she has her godmother." She looked up, staring at Booth through a sheen of tears. "Do you think she will?"

Voice trembling, Booth answered, "I…I don't know." A sob tore out of his chest, and he admitted in a broken voice, "I think she's really going to die. And I can't…I can't handle that…"

"I know," Angela choked out, rubbing a hand on his back as Booth bent over, crying softly against the back of his hand.

"And I can't even look at Hannah," he burst out after a moment. "Even if she wasn't wearing that thing, I can't look at her without thinking….God, and she said Bones wanted…to, to tell me that she forgives me, which is just…how could she?" He sighed, shaking his head in disbelief at how far they'd fallen. "Jesus, if I had a choice now…"

Booth stopped talking abruptly, staring at Angela, frightened of what he'd almost said.

Finally, Angela said gently, "It doesn't matter anymore. She took the choice away."

Before he could reply, Cam stuck her head in the doorway. "There you are. Come on, we have a list of potential cancer patients….slash suspects. Hodgins has some results, too."

~(B*B)~

His hand was fumbling with the button on her jeans, and Brennan had to fight the urge to vomit.

He pressed against her, sandwiching Brennan between himself and the wall. For now, though, only one his hands was roaming her body; the other still clutched the gun, holding it against her neck.

She had to wait.

His lips, cracked and dry, brushed against her neck. He dragged her zipper down and let his fingers drift between her legs.

Panic swelled inside Brennan, and she felt herself shaking, fighting the urge to squirm as memories rushed to her, of being sixteen years old and at the mercy of a particularly bad foster father. Tears rushed to her eyes and all thoughts of her plan dissolved…she just wanted him off her; she was going to scream…

He let out a low moan, and the hand holding the gun slowly drifted toward her chest as the other started to free her of her jeans…

The feel of the gun, the side of it rather than the barrel, against her chest made Brennan snap back into herself.

She waited until he dropped his head slightly, and then threw an elbow back against his nose with a satisfying crunch.

He reeled back, letting go of her and, better than she'd expected, dropping the gun. It skittered across the floor and Brennan made to grab at it, but he got a hold of her leg and pulled her down on top of him.

There was a momentary scuffle. Brennan made a grab for his throat but he managed to seize her wrists, and he gave the broken fingers a hard tug. Brennan gasped, momentarily distracted by the pain, and he rolled away, changing his objective, making a grab for the gun….

She couldn't wait anymore. Brennan leaped to her feet and managed to get one good kick in the stomach before she ran for the door, slamming it behind her.

Outside, she fumbled with the button on her jeans with one hand, the other moving to lock the door. Her heart sank; it was a key lock. She's suspected that, from the sounds of his entrances, but had been hoping she was wrong.

There was nothing to block the door, so she took off down the corridor. The hallway was narrow, not large enough for two people to walk side by side down. The floor was the same cool cement as the room she'd been held in, and the walls were nothing but exposed cinderblock.

But there was a door at the end with a 'stairwell' sign beside it. She just had to get there.

The door was locked. Of course; he had her trapped.

The small glass window at the top of the door shattered suddenly, a gunshot echoing in her ears. Adrenaline pumping, Brennan ducked down the side corridor, running. She slung open a few of the doors only to find small, closet size rooms.

She couldn't put herself in a position to be cornered.

Finally, at the end of the hall, she flung open another door to find a larger room, stacked with boxes. And in the corner, a panel in the floor was propped open, revealing a wooden staircase, going down to some sub-basement.

Before Brennan could duck inside, two more gunshots rang out.

The first missed.

The second didn't.

Brennan crumpled to the ground in the doorway.

_So, there we are. Next chapter should be fairly soon, as well, so you know what to do! Tell me your thoughts haha. Thanks for reading! _


	6. Darkest Things

_A/N: Not much new to say here, everyone. You are awesome. Your reviews make my day. This is another quick update (is anyone falling onto their keyboards from shock?), though it is a little shorter. Hope you enjoy. Song is "Darkest Things" by the Submarines. Gorgeous._

Chapter Five

_Darkest Things_

_The more delicate the task  
You find the shakier the hand  
You try to understand and fight it  
All that you need  
Has brought you to your knees  
Trembling with greed still you fight it_

_And it's funny how the darkest things  
You only find when you've been searching  
Don't back down from what you need  
Guiltiness it only makes you mean_

Brennan crumbled to the ground in the doorway.

For the first instant, she could only gasp for breath. The pain hit her at once, she couldn't yet specify the source.

Then, the shock dissolved somewhat, leaving Brennan's left thigh feeling as though it was on fire.

For a moment she was frozen, panicked. But then logic kicked in and Brennan realized that, if it had gotten the femoral artery, she would have bled out in a matter of seconds, making her at the very least unconscious by now.

His footsteps were pounding up the hallway, coming to collect her. Gritting her teeth through the pain, Brennan crawled just inside the door and used her right foot to slam it closed.

Brennan wrenched one hand free of the ties behind her back, burning her wrist on the ropes. Luckily it seemed the man had been so overcome with his own lust that his bindings had been unusually sloppy.

Wincing, Brennan pulled herself to her feet, which only quickened the flow of blood down her leg; she'd deal with that in a moment.

Like every other door she'd encountered, there was no lock. But the room around her was stocked with boxes, and Brennan managed to push a nearby pile in front of the door just as the knob turned.

It opened an inch and no more. She heard him curse, frustrated, but Brennan knew the barrier wouldn't hold for very long.

She limped as fast as she could manage over to the panel that was propped open from the floor. The stairs were stripped wood, unstable looking, and whatever subbasement they led to was dark and uncertain.

But, as another gunshot exploded behind her, wild and aimless through the tiny opening in the door, it seemed like her only choice.

With difficulty, her thigh burning more than ever, Brennan lowered herself through the panel and stood on the stairs, all her weight on her right side. When she'd hobbled low enough, she grabbed the stringing hanging from the panel door and pulled it closed above her.

Again, there was no lock, only a small handle. Her eyes adjusting to the darkness, Brennan surveyed the room, which was again crowded with a random assortment of objects stacked around for storage.

At the bottom of the stairs, inexplicably, there was a large garbage can full of what appeared to be fake bamboo sticks. From her now crouched position on the stairs, Brennan slowly slid down a few until she could reach one, then used its weight to stand up.

She maneuvered the flimsy stick carefully through the tiny handle on the door, not at all confident in its ability to keep the door closed but unable to think of an alternative, particularly as she was beginning to feel foggy and lightheaded, her vision swimming slightly in front of her.

Sitting again, Brennan ran her hands over her leg until she found the source of the bleeding. Her jeans were soaked through now, and she could feel blood dripping even below her knee. Brennan quickly pulled off her shirt, leaving her only in the thin white camisole she'd been wearing underneath, and tied the fabric tightly around the wound.

The pressure felt like she was feeding a fire,and Brennan bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out.

She sat huddled on the stairs, shivering, for a long minute until she began to feel more focused. Then, taking her time, she pushed herself to her feet and began hobbling, leaning on various boxes and bins as she did so, to the far corner of the room.

If nothing else, she would put off this final moment as long as possible.

She sank to the ground behind several stacks of boxes. Her entire leg was tingling unpleasantly, and the white shirt she'd used a tourniquet was already entirely red.

Brennan leaned against the wall, her eyes drifting closed.

~(B*B)~

Booth's heartbeat thudded in his ears as he and Angela followed Cam out of Brennan's office onto the platform. This was the last chance. Something had to turn up.

As soon as they reached the platform, Cam led him to a monitor and tapped her knuckle against it. "This is the list we got."

The words on the screen seemed to blur and meld together, and Booth leaned too close, his eyes wide, scanning them.

His heart skittered.

"Greg Thomas."

Cam didn't even ask for clarification, to know the case. "Okay. Greg Thomas. Now we can find him."

"He…oh, God. _Oh_, God, how could I not have remembered that…"

Angela was already typing at the computer next to him. "Greg Thomas…divorced, he lives in an apartment in DC….an apartment wouldn't have a basement would it?"

"Where does he work, could he have them there?" Cam asked. Booth was barely aware of what was going on around him. He felt sick with self loathing.

It was so obvious. He should have remembered.

Hodgins spoke up, "The results of Hannah's clothes may tell you that…evidence of paint…acrylic paint, which is unusual. Also ink and turpentine fragments, evidence of wood shavings-"

"It's an art studio," Angela interrupted. "Every art studio smells like paint and turpentine." She pinned her gaze on Booth, hope lighting her eyes for the first time all day. "Was he an artist?"

"No…no but his sister was." He shook his head, determination filling him, his whole body buzzing with adrenaline. He started to move. "Casey Thomas, okay? She owned a studio, it closed after she died…I know the general direction, look up the address and send it to me…."

"Seeley." Cam's voice stopped him when he was already off the platform. "You can't go alone."

He shook his head one, irritated, but unwilling to waste time arguing. "Wait five minutes then call for back up."

Without waiting for an answer, Booth spun and sprinted the rest of the way out of the lab.

~(B*B)~

"I found Greg Thomas," Sweets said, breaking the tense silence of the past ten minutes, that had been broken only by Cam's tense call for backup, which she'd disappeared right after.

The others, though, had moved into Angela's office and were silent, waiting. Hodgins and Angela sat side by side on the couch, their hands linked between them. Sweets was the desk, holding file, while Hannah was cross legged in the floor, looking lost in thought.

The others all blinked at the young psychologist. They'd nearly forgotten to be curious about the motivation behind this man's revenge, not when Brennan's fate was so uncertain.

It was Hannah, though, who finally asked, "Who was he?"

"I remembered his name from one of my files…but we didn't flag it because he wasn't a criminal, obviously, and the case was closed. It was one of Booth's first years with the bureau, just before he got transferred to major homicide. He did a year or so with the kidnapping division."

Everyone was giving Sweets their attention now, just glad to have something to focus on.

"There was this serial kidnapper, kind of like the gravedigger. He went after rich guys, took two different members of their families and had separate ransoms for each one. If you didn't pay up in the time limit, he'd leave the body of one of them somewhere he knew it would be found. Usually then, people would pay for the second one…but inevitably, they would already be dead, same time as the first one."

"That's horrible," Hannah murmured.

"Yeah. Anyway, Greg Thomas was one of his targets. He owned a big time real estate company, so money wise, he was the perfect target. This guy kidnapped his wife and his younger sister and demanded a ransom for each one.

"Booth was working the case…and he had to go with the standard FBI policy, advising no payment. Greg listened to him…for awhile. Says he started doing his own research into this kidnapper, and he changed his mind. Told Booth he wanted to pay up."

"But?" Hodgins asked.

"It was too late, too close to the deadline. Banks only let you withdraw a certain amount at a time…he barely had enough time to get enough money together for _one_."

Understanding was dawning in Hannah's eyes. "So…"

"He had to choose," Angela put in quietly.

Sweets nodded. "Yes. He chose his wife, and she was let go. The kidnapper called and said he'd extend the deadline another day….but after Greg dumped the money, his sister turned up dead anyway. After he dumped that body, Booth was able to catch the guy."

A thick silence hung over them after that. Eventually though, Angela said, a catch in her voice, "What if that's what happens to us? What if we're too late and Brennan's already…." She paused, then looked over at Hannah, holding her gaze. "You were there. You were with him…do _you_ think there's a chance? That she's…that she's still alive."

Hannah closed her eyes, grimacing. She was thinking about the assertion that Greg hadn't been interested in hurting them, only Booth. The fact that the gun seemed to be his only weapon rather than some slow torture device.

But she said, in a small voice, "Maybe. A chance."

Angela looked away. "You don't believe it. Not really."

~(B*B)~

Booth unlocked the door at the bottom of the stairwell and burst into the basement.

He was here.

His gun drawn, Booth stood frozen, listening, trying to discern any sound other than his own thundering pulse.

For a moment nothing. Then, vaguely, he heard movement.

Thirty seconds later, Booth whipped into view in a doorway, pointing his gun. "Don't move!"

Greg looked up from a stack of boxes he was pushing, and for just a second, shock and anger and fear flickered across his face. But then he composed himself and merely smiled in welcome. "Well done, Agent Booth. You found me."

A small knot of panic was working its way up Booth's throat. The only thing he registered was Bones absence. But he kept a tight grip on the gun and nearly growled at Greg, "_Where is she_?"

"Clever of you to figure everything out. And find me, too. But I'm afraid, once again, it's just a little too late."

It felt like something inside of Booth's chest was exploding, shooting sparks through his whole body. He was physically shaking, from all the fear and panic and rage pushing to burst from him. "_Where is she_?"

"Not a good feeling, is it, Agent?" Greg asked coldly. As he spoke, he reached into his pocket.

Booth took an immediate step forward. "Make another move, I _dare_ you. Give me a reason to shoot you, I swear to _God_ there is nothing I want more."

Greg only laughed. "I don't care if you shoot me. That means nothing to me right now." He reached up and tugged on his hair, which turned out to be a well fitted wig. Greg let it drop to the floor. He pointed to the long scar winding across his bald scalp. "Brain tumors. They say this one's inoperable, and the chemo did shit for it, so…" He shrugged. "I've got a couple good months left. But thanks to you, I've done this whole thing alone. No sister. No wife, no kids. No one." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the gun, holding in his hand casually.

Booth took another step forward. "_Drop_ it, now."

"Oh, don't worry about this thing," Greg said reassuringly. "I wouldn't want to kill _you_….you don't get off that easy. I didn't, after all." A wicked grin spread across his face. "I'd watch where you're stepping though. Slick floor."

Before he could stop himself, Booth glanced down, and his stomach pitched forward.

There was a pool of blood underneath him. And though there were a few splatter marks around it, for the most part, the blood seemed contained.

It took all Booth's efforts to keep from squeezing the trigger, from sending a bullet into this smug bastards face. "_Where is she?"_

"She's already been taken care of." His smile stretched. "I told you someone would have to die, Agent Booth. You couldn't save both of them. Just like me."

Greg lifted his gun. Booth aimed at his leg and fired, at the same moment the man turned his own gun on his head, just against his scar and fired.

Booth stood over him, staring at the crumpled man, dead in a pool of his blood.

_She's already been taken care of._

_I told you someone would have to die here._

His gut twisting, Booth fell hard to his knees, grabbing the nearest box (empty except for a few paint brushes) and retched into it.

After a moment, sweaty and shaky, Booth realized something.

Greg had looked panicked when he'd arrived. Panicked and _angry_. Like his plan hadn't worked.

Booth seized on that.

Before he could even come up with a plan, her name formed in his throat and rose on its own accord, a raw, desperate plea. "_Bones!"_

Getting shakily to his feet, Booth moved out of the room and into the hallway, voice stronger as he repeated, "_Bones!_"

He moved down the narrow space, flinging open doors to rooms empty and tiny. He continued shouting her name, _his_ name for her, until it was echoing off the walls, filling the room, swirling around him.

He tore down every hallway of the basement, looked in every room. He found the room where they'd likely been held, where there were still more splatters of blood on the floor, though dark and completely dry.

Booth went upstairs to the main floor and called out to her, ignoring the fact that the door had been locked from the outside when he'd gotten there. When there was still no answer, he went through the basement yet again, still calling her name.

"_Bones!_" By this time, his voice was scratchy and unsteady, but it didn't affect the volume.

This, her nickname, over and over, was the sound that greeted Cam and the FBI agents who'd been called in as backup.

When they found him in the hallway where he'd started, Booth didn't even notice their presence, never breaking from the steady stream of yells.

Cam approached him tentatively and reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder as Booth flung open a door for the third time. "Seeley?"

He glanced over at her, a strange, unfocused look in his eyes. Then, waving a hand vaguely at a nearby door, he muttered, "He's in there, he's dead. Shot himself."

The FBI agents disappeared into the room, but Cam merely took a few paces back so she could peer in. Her gaze first found the dead man, the pool of blood beneath his head. And then she saw the smears in the doorway, a good distance away from Greg Thomas' body.

"Seeley," Cam's voice was gentle. "Is she…"

"She's alive," he shook his head fervently. "She's alive. _BONES!_"

"Did he say that?" Cam asked quietly.

"No," Booth muttered dismissively before resuming his yelling, "_Bones!"_

Cam touched his shoulder. "Seeley…"

He shook her off, striding down the hallway, walking the same route yet again. "Bones!"

For the next ten minutes, Cam watched silently as Booth continued to fill the halls with Brennan's nickname, while the other agents dealt with the crime scene.

When Booth was circling the square hallway for probably the seventh time, still calling for Bones just as fervently as before, Cam decided she couldn't watch him anymore.

Cam approached him slowly and took hold of both of his arms. Immediately, she could feel how violently he was trembling.

"Seeley-"

"She's alive," Booth insisted.

"Okay-"

"We still would've found her, I didn't find her, she's alive…"

"Okay, but….it's been about three hours since he brought Hannah back-"

"_No._"

"-and there's a lot of blood on the floor, and there's no drip pattern-"

"_Shut _up!" Booth's voice cracked. He stared at Cam, chest heaving. There were tears in her eyes, and Booth couldn't accept what that meant. "She, she…she isn't dead, I'd know if she was, she isn't. I…." He backed away, roaring again, "_Bones!"_

"She isn't here, Booth. Okay?" Sympathy and sadness welled in Cam's dark eyes. "She's _not_."

Slowly, Booth's face crumpled, childlike. "I…_no_. She…_Bones_!" The last attempt at a yell died in his throat; it came out more like the beginning of a sob. Then, nearly whimpering, "B…Bones…"

Booth wrapped his arms around his middle; he was cracking open, and it was all he could do to hold together the broken pieces.

His insides were dissolving, and Booth was sliding to the ground without even realizing it. Waves of pain, physical and very, very real, ripped through his body.

Cam's hand rested on his back, rubbing circles.

"Where is she?" He asked, his voice unrecognizable, like a small child. "Where…_where is she?"_

"I'm so sorry," Cam's voice came to him through a fog. "I am so, so sorry."

_A/N: So that's all for this one. Another cliffhanger, yes, but do what you've been doing and leave those lovely reviews (I love knowing what you thought about everything that happened) and I'll be doing my best to update in the next few days. As always, thanks for reading. We can survive this hiatus together through the power of fic._


	7. Wreck of the Day

_A/N: __Again with the awesome reviews, guys. And again with the fast update as a reward. Plus, we had no Bones tonight, yet again, so hopefully this will at least somewhat make up for our withdrawal. It's a pretty long chapter. Hope you enjoy! _

Chapter Six

_Wreck of the Day_

_Driving away from the wreck of the day_  
_And the light's always red in the rear-view_  
_Desperately close to a coffin of hope_  
_I'd cheat destiny just to be near you_  
_If this is giving up, then I'm giving up_  
_If this is giving up, then I'm giving up, giving up_  
_On love, On love_

_Driving away from the wreck of the day_  
_And I'm thinking 'bout calling on Jesus_  
_'Cause love doesn't hurt so I know I'm not falling in love_  
_I'm just falling to pieces_

Brennan opened her eyes, with what felt like great effort. She'd been dreaming, walking through the science museum where her father used to take her. In the dream, though, she wasn't a child, and Max wasn't with her. The museum was empty, but somewhere she could hear Booth calling her.

Even as she woke up, everything remained foggy. Her leg was numb, and the slightest movement of her head made her dizzy. It took a moment for Brennan to take in her location, remember why she was there.

Then, so distant she couldn't be sure it was real, she heard him. "_Bones!"_

"Booth…" Her voice was cracked and dry, and Brennan swallowed hard, desperately. "Booth!"

It was still too weak. For a moment, there was a silence, and Brennan began to doubt what she'd heard. Tears rose to her eyes before she could stop them.

"BONES!"

It felt as though her heart was swelling; there was no mistaking it this time.

"Booth…" It was involuntary, barely audible.

It had sounded like he was coming closer, and Brennan waited, but she didn't hear him again.

Closing her eyes against her unsteady vision, Brennan swallowed several times, breathing deeply, trying to gather her strength back so she could reach Booth.

~(B*B)~

Booth cradled his head in his hands, his grip tight as though he could keep himself from shattering.

This was the dying part. He was just waiting for it to be over.

"_Booth_…"

Everything inside him seized up, and Booth raised his head, eyes huge.

Cam, who'd been sitting beside him, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, seemed startled by the sudden movement. "What?"

"It's…it's Bones…."

Cam winced. "Oh, Seeley…"

He pulled himself to his feet, shaky. "No, no, I heard her…"

Then, louder, it came again. "_Booth_!"

"Oh, my God…" Cam murmured.

A gasping sob wrenched from Booth's chest, and he was already moving toward her voice, sparks flying in his chest.

He ran through the open doorway of the room where Greg Thomas had died. "_Bones_!"

~(B*B)~

After what seemed like an eternity of yelling with no answer, Brennan heard Booth's voice, calling her name.

She sagged against the wall in relief, a fresh wave of tears filling her eyes for a completely different reason.

"Booth!"

~(B*B)~

"Bones!"

Booth followed Brennan's voice across the room, frantically searching for some sort of door he'd missed.

"Booth!"

"I'm coming, Bones…" The words came out strangled, but before he could repeat himself, he saw the panel in the floor. Booth grabbed the handle and pulled, but something was blocking it. His throat narrowed, and he crouched down, urgently knocking his palm against the door. "Bones!"

~(B*B)~

Brennan realized seconds before Booth's knocking that he wouldn't be able to open the door right away.

"Booth…" It seemed his name was the only sound she was capable of making.

Brennan gripped the wall on either side of her, but as soon as she tried to stand the room tilted and spun. Her left leg felt numb and heavy, like an unnatural weight dragging behind her body. She fell heavily back to a sitting position, a frustrated moan escaping her.

~(B*B)~

Booth's heart felt like it might explode. He couldn't wait. Bracing his feet on either side of the panel, he seized the handle with both hands and wrenched at it.

After just a few seconds of pulling, there was cracking sound and the panel opened, sending Booth sprawling.

But he didn't care, because in the next second he was standing and pounding down the stairs, jumping the last three, and running across the room toward her, shoving aside everything in his way.

"Booth…" Brennan's voice was weak, but she was nearly crying with relief.

"Bones," he breathed her name, giving it more significance than any word he'd ever uttered in his life. It sounded like a prayer, a thanks, a declaration, and a million other things.

Then he was dropping to his knees in front of her and pulling her into his arms.

If Booth had to describe this feeling, of finally holding her in his arms, feeling the thump Brennan's heartbeat against his, reveling in this proof of her life after he'd been certain of her death…it was a happiness, a _joy_, so powerful that it hurt.

Tears dripped down his cheeks, falling into her hair as he held her close.

Brennan buried her face in Booth's shirt, breathing him in. There was so much she needed to ask him, so many things she should be remembering about the way they were now, but she was so tired. And she'd been so scared. And Booth's arms felt like the most comforting thing in the world. So just for this moment, she let herself sink into his embrace.

It was Booth who pulled away eventually, as his fingers drifted to the ground and touched a sticky wetness. He drew back slightly, face paling as he stared at Brennan's makeshift tourniquet. "He shot you…"

"It's not so bad," Brennan muttered, though for the first time Booth noticed how pale she looked, and how hard she was shivering.

He touched his forehead against hers, briefly, and said in a low, quiet voice, "You scared me."

"So did you," Brennan mumbled, voice weak. Her eyes were beginning to close, so Booth didn't bother questioning the statement.

"I'm going to get you out of here, okay? Everything's gonna be fine."

"Can't…walk…I tried…"

"It's okay..." Booth half stood, then gently guided Brennan's arm around his neck as he wrapped one arm around her waist, tucking the other under her knees. "I've got you."

When Brennan didn't protest, Booth straightened, and carried her across the room and up the stairs, leading her away from the nightmare of the dark, cold basement and the pool of her blood.

Somewhere, though, Booth had a feeling that this was a nightmare none of them would be leaving behind.

~(B*B)~

Cam was waiting for them at the top of the stairs. Booth emerged, Brennan in his arms and beginning to nod off against his chest.

Relief and concern flickering simultaneously across Cam's face, she approached them. "is she…?"

Booth cut his eyes downward, eyes widening in alarm. "She was just awake…" He jostled her arm the best he could. "Bones, c'mon, you gotta stay awake, alright?"

"'M awake…" Brennan murmured, her eyes fluttering.

"Let's get her to the hospital," Cam said in an undertone.

They moved through the basement, the other agents stopping their own search and staring as Booth walked purposefully past them, Cam leading the way.

Outside, Booth continued to talk quietly to Brennan, nonsense reassurances. "You're okay, Bones, I've got you. I'm right here, okay, just hold on a little longer…Cam, my keys are in my pocket. Almost over, Bones, stay with me, okay?'

"I'm fine…" Brennan breathed against his shoulder, just as Cam awkwardly extracted Booth's keys from his pocket and opened the back door to the SUV before jumping in the front.

Booth gently lay Brennan across the backseat, climbing in after her and letting her lean against him. "Cam, put on the siren…"

"I know-"

"You have to go fast-"

"Seeley, I was a cop, we're okay."

They sped through the streets. Cam glanced up at the rearview mirror to the backseat; Booth was stroking Brennan's hair, his eyes staring down at her with poorly disguised terror as he continued to whisper to her, as much for his benefit as her own, "You're okay…it's alright. I'm right here, I got you…'s okay, Bones…"

Brennan's teeth were chattering. She felt like the edges of her vision were slipping away. Laying the back of the car was disorienting, and all she could do was focus on Booth's voice above her. Dimly, she thought about how long it had been since he'd said her name that way.

"You okay, Bones?"

Brennan looked up, meeting Booth's eyes, warm and wet and full of fear. It took her a moment to realize he actually wanted an answer.

"Just…really c-cold."

Booth met Cam's eyes in the rearview mirror, his anxiety increasing. "We're almost there," he said, even as he leaned forward and, with difficulty, pulled his suit jacket over his head, draping it over her. For good measure, he rubbed his free hand up and down her arm.

"You're sh-shaking," stammered Brennan quietly.

For some reason this simple observation caused tears to rush to Booth's eyes. "So are you."

The car suddenly pulled to a stop in front of an ER entrance. Some of the tension in Booth's stomach uncoiled as he opened the door and again lifted Brennan into his arms. "Okay, Bones, we're here, they're going to take care of you now…"

She didn't answer; her eyes had closed.

~(B*B)~

Angela had been holding Hodgins' hand in a death grip for nearly an hour, but he hadn't once complained.

Her ringtone seemed shrill and almost obscenely loud after nearly thirty minutes of total silence by the four occupants of the office. For a moment, Angela was so startled by the noise that she didn't connect it to the source.

"Angie, it's yours," Hodgins reminded her quietly.

Her chest constricting, Angela reached for her phone and saw, as she'd been both dreading and hoping, Cam's name flash across her screen. Even as she fumbled to open it, Angela reached out to reclaim her husband's hand. "Hello?"

"We got her," Cam told her instantly.

Immediately, Angela burst in tears. Until that moment, she hadn't realized just how little hope she'd had of her best friend being found alive. Hodgins' eyes went wide with horror, but Angela shook her head and spoke through her tears, "They got her." Then, into the phone, "Is she okay?"

Cam's voice was soothing, "She'd been shot in the leg, but we just got her to the hospital."

Angela nodded, squeezing Hodgins' hand as she swallowed instinctual worry. Brennan was alive. She'd be okay. "We're on our way. Thanks."

She hung up and smiled at the rest of them, tears rolling down her cheeks. "She's alive." She twisted, looking just at Hodgins. "She's alive."

He was smiling, "I know, I heard."

"Is she okay?" Sweets put in.

"Um, Cam said she was shot in the leg, but…but that's no big deal. She'll be fine. It's Bren, that's not a big deal for her, right?"

Hodgins squeezed her hand again and stood up. "Let's go make sure." He looked at Sweets and Hannah, "You guys want a ride?"

"Definitely," Sweets replied.

Hannah, though, glanced down at the lab coat she was wearing. "I should probably change. This freaked Seeley out, I better not unleash it on the public."

The others exchanged looks. Hodgins could see the urgency in Angela's eyes that had erased all traces of her exhaustion. Luckily, Sweets spoke up quickly, "I can give you a ride to your place."

"You sure?" Hannah shifted uncomfortably. She'd spent the past few hours choking back guilt, surrounded by Brennan's closest friends and trying to forget about the fact that, for them, her being here and alive meant the worst possible news.

"Of course," he answered. "You don't have a car here, it's no problem."

Angela was already moving out of the room. Hodgins followed her, nodding at Sweets. "We'll see you guys there."

~(B*B)~

"Entry mid left thigh…"

"Her BP's dropping."

"There doesn't seem to be an exit."

"Did you see this, it feels like she's got cracked ribs…"

"Fingers are broken, too, and that's a nasty cut…"

"She's lucky the bullet didn't hit the femoral artery, it's awfully close…"

"She's lost a lot of blood…"

"O positive, she…she's O positive." Booth was hovering next to Brennan in the small trauma bay in the hospital, his hand over Brennan's, doctors and nurses moving around him.

No one answered, and something flared in his chest. "Do you people _hear me_?"

A young doctor appeared at his left shoulder, hanging a bag of blood. "We got it, Agent Booth."

An older doctor who seemed to be running the room glanced up and met Booth's. "You need to get out of here."

"No." Booth tightened his jaw and raised his head, eyes blazing. "I'm not leaving her."

The doctor started to protest, but another doctor, who had been getting an ultrasound of Brennan's thigh, got his attention by pointing at the screen.

"That bullet's in dangerous property."

"She's at risk for infection…"

"We need to get X-rays, get a better look at that femur."

The medical speak had a dizzying effect on Booth, who only gripped Brennan's hand a little tighter, his thumb habitually rubbing back and forth, as though he could comfort her. "I…I don't understand, she was awake before. Why isn't she awake?"

"She's lost a lot of blood, but we're taking care of that," the older doctor said in a distracted voice. After a moment, though he looked up and met Booth's gaze. "She's most likely going to need surgery."

"Okay." Booth nodded hard. "Okay, I…I'm her partner, I have medical power of attorney." He paused. "Or at least I did." The doctor's eyebrows lifted, and he hurriedly amended, "No, I do. I have been for years now."

"You'll need to sign a consent form…"

"Sure, of course," he answered dazedly. "Just…she'll be okay, right? She…she's going to live."

"We're going to do our best."

Too soon, Booth was being banished from the room, a room so crowded with doctors that he could only squeeze Brennan's hand in a goodbye.

As he moved unsteadily to find a waiting room, all Booth could do was think about how he didn't say he was sorry, for what happened to her, for what he said, for the past five months. He didn't say that he'd missed her, that he missed _them_.

He didn't say so many things.

~(B*B)~

Booth couldn't stand still in the waiting room. Cam gave up convincing him to take a seat after about five minutes of his manic pacing. He didn't stop when Hodgins and Angela arrived, or even when the doctor came to inform them they were taking her down for surgery.

He was still pacing when Hannah and Sweets got there, forty five minutes after Brennan went into surgery. Sweets sat down immediately, getting an update from Cam, but Hannah approached him, a hesitant look on her face.

"How you doing?"

"Fine," he muttered, eyes on his shoes.

"Is she going to be alright?"

"They're working on her leg."

There was a pause, and finally Hannah asked in a tight voice, "Can you please look at me, Seeley?"

With what felt like great effort, Booth met her eyes.

Hannah drew a breath. "I'm going to overlook whatever that was earlier, because I know how scared you were. I know…I know this is going to change things. I know it's hard. Just…don't shut me out, alright?" She wrapped her hands around his neck, looking imploringly up at him. "I'm here, okay?"

A muscle was jumping in Booth's jaw, and in as normal a voice as he could manage, he told her, "I…thank you. But right now, you don't have to be…you're the one who's been held hostage, you should be getting some rest."

"I'm _fine_. You're the one I'm worried about." Hannah studied him. Booth looked like he'd aged ten years in the past day. His eyes were bloodshot and haggard, the fear in them still active. "She'll be okay, Seeley. Temperance is tough."

Booth's shoulders dropped, a groan escaping him before he could suppress it. "Don't, don't…don't do that."

"Don't do _what_?"

"Don't talk like you know Bones, okay, you…_I_ know Bones. You don't."

Dropping her arms from around his neck, Hannah narrowed her eyes at Booth, an edge in her voice. "I know her. I was in that room with her. _I _was the one who watched that guy beating her, smashing her face with a gun, I…_I_ saw her willingly sacrifice her life. Even though _you_ seem to have forgotten that I was there, too, I _was_. I saw how tough she is firsthand, so, _yes_, I know what I'm talking about."

Silence fell between them for a moment, as the others sat stock still, pretending they hadn't been listening. Booth rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. I…I'm just sorry. I'm having a hard time-"

"I know."

"Bones is in surgery, she could still die-"

"She won't."

Booth nodded once, looking away from her once again. "I can't do this right now. I can't handle…all I can do is wait for Bones to be alright. That is the _one_ thing I can do right now. Please…" His voice cracked. "_Please_, Hannah, just let me do that?"

It took her a second, but Hannah heard the implicit end to that request, the _alone_ he didn't bother to tack on.

"Sure," she agreed quietly, touching his arm lightly before taking a seat near the others. She knew, somewhere, that she should be angry at her boyfriend. She'd just been through a traumatic ordeal and he seemed almost angry at her, had spent the afternoon avoiding her or yelling at her to change and barely asking how she was.

But this man in front of her was nearly unrecognizable, so broken and lost that it seemed unthinkingly cruel to sustain even a mild annoyance in his direction. Looking at Booth now, all she could feel was pity.

~(B*B)~

Twenty minutes after Hannah left him alone, Booth felt like he was suffocating. He could feel his girlfriend's gaze piercing him, even as he determinedly paced with his back to her and the others, and he had no room for anymore guilt.

"I gotta find the chapel," he said suddenly, addressing the room in general and not waiting for a response before exiting the room.

It had just been a quick excuse to leave, but as soon as he was out of the room, it became very important for Booth to be in the hospital chapel.

After about ten minutes, he found it. Sinking into a pew, Booth cradled his head in his hands, suddenly longing for a confessional, the opportunity to unburden himself of the weight crushing his chest.

Not that he thought there was any penance in the world that could absolve his sins.

He couldn't face what he'd said to Bones before she'd been kidnapped, couldn't face that it had led directly to her being kidnapped. Bones wasn't the type to forget something like that, or to analyze the circumstances around it.

He remembered her face. She'd believed him, every word.

There were no words sufficient enough to take it back, not after what she'd done for him. Booth didn't think he could ever make it right.

And Hannah…God, even now, with Bones found, he couldn't look at her, not without seeing everything Brennan wasn't (safe and unharmed) and resenting her for it.

It felt like he was drowning again, in a world Booth barely recognized.

~(B*B)~

It was four hours later, long after Booth had made his way back to the waiting room and resumed his pacing, that the surgeon finally emerged.

Booth stopped moving for the first time in an hour, his lungs and heart ceasing to work on their own accord.

Until the surgeon smiled. "She's doing just fine." Sighs of relief cut away the tension and he continued, "We'll be keeping her in for the rest of the week, at least…we've still got to keep an eye out for infection, and there are other potential complications we need to be wary of. Barring those, she'll be ready to set up physical therapy as an outpatient fairly soon."

"Thank you," came Cam's voice from behind him.

Then, Angela asked, "Can we see her?"

"It's past official visiting hours, so I'd like to keep it one at a time. She's still out from the anesthesia, in any case, but she should be awake in a few hours."

His voice continued, giving room numbers and explaining visitor policies, but they rushed past Booth, inconsequential. He lifted is head skyward, eyes closed, thanking God for doctors, and for Bones and how strong she was.

He'd had no part in this. She'd saved herself. _He _was why she'd nearly been unable to.

"Booth." Angela's voice startled him out of his silent gratitude. "You should go first. She'll…" The artist cut her eyes at Hannah, but finished anyway, "You're the one she'll want to see when she wakes up."

At this suggestion, though, all the air whooshed from Booth's lungs; he could feel his chest tightening, panic bubbling to the surface.

Still, he was just as surprised as everyone else when he shook his head. "No, I…I can't."

They all stared at him, not comprehending. "What do you mean you _can't_?"

The memory of Brennan's face when he'd found her in the basement flashed in Booth's mind… unadulterated relief, and such pure trust that it broke his heart.

But she'd been scared, thinking she was dying. Losing blood and barely gripping onto consciousness.

Another memory wedged itself in front of Booth's eyes. The way she'd turned around before leaving the lab, right after his _I don't need you_. That shattered expression, tears streaming down her face, raw heartbreak palpable.

He'd done that. She'd forgiven him. She'd given up her life for him anyway, even though it had been a full year since he'd been there for her in any way that mattered.

And Bones thought _she_ didn't have an open heart.

Booth shook his head. "I can't be here. I just…I can't."

Ignoring their expressions, a mingling of shock and confusion and anger, Booth pushed his way through the small know of his friends and left the room.

~(B*B)~

"Seeley. _Seeley_."

He'd made it outside the building before Hannah caught up with him. It was only when Booth realized he had no idea where Cam had parked his car that he forced himself to turn around and acknowledge her.

"What?"

Hannah gave him a helpless look, like she didn't know quite how to deal with him like this. "You aren't even going to see her?"

"No," he bit out in a clipped tone. "I'm not going to see her."

She stared at him. "She's going to want to see you." Something unreadable flashed across Hannah's expression for a nanosecond. "Trust me."

"_Don't_ talk to me about Bones, okay? She shouldn't want to see me."

"Of course she-"

Booth was losing it. "_Damn_ it, Hannah, you…you have _no_ fucking idea what you're talking about! Okay? _No idea_. You don't know what I did, before she got taken, you weren't there."

Hannah's face hardened, anger finally emanating from every syllable she spoke. "No, Seeley, I _wasn't_. Because I was _alone_, in some cold basement having a gun waved in my face every half hour. So I'm so very sorry I missed whatever was going on, but I didn't have much choice in the matter. Good to know you were so concerned though."

"What the hell does that mean?" Booth felt a bitter, unjustified resentment swelling inside him. She claimed he didn't care when she was missing? When he'd been so damn scared and out of his mind that he'd yelled at Bones for no reason?

"I haven't asked for much. I stayed and helped with the case, I told them everything I knew. But you haven't shown an ounce of relief since I got back."

"What did you want from me, Hannah? You wanted me to take you off somewhere to welcome you back? Forget about the fact that Bones was alone with a killer…"

"Of _course_ not. I wanted to find her as much as anyone. She saved my life."

He gave a harsh laugh. "Is that right? Well, that was really fucking lucky for you, wasn't it? She saved your life. And what did you do? You watched him beat her with a gun, watched him knock her around and break her fingers…"

There were tears in Hannah's eyes, and Booth knew her well enough to know she only cried when she was angry. "You unbelievable _bastard_. _You_ weren't there. To use your charming phrase, you have no fucking idea what you're talking about."

"All I know is that you're fine. I found Bones with dried blood all over face and broken fingers and ribs and a _fucking_ gunshot wound, and you don't even have a scratch."

"You're saying you're angry I didn't get hurt, is that it?"

"I'm saying you should have _helped_ her."

"I was _scared_," her voice caught. "I'm not like you two, I don't get held captive all the damn time. I've been injured, yeah, but that's like…a glancing bullet wound, or burns from those explosives…I never had anyone after me. I was _afraid_, Seeley. You act like you're the only one who's having a hard time, but you weren't in that basement, _I_ was." She paused, chest heaving, then added before he could, "And Temperance."

"But you let her go," his voice was softer now, though still strained and accusatory. "You let her just give herself up like that, you were probably _relieved_-"

"I didn't _know_ what she was doing! I even told her you'd be angry at me for letting her do this, and she said, _Oh, no, he'll just be glad he doesn't have to._"

Something about those words made Booth's heart catch painfully. "Wh...I don't get it, what does that mean?"

Hannah pressed the heel of her hands over her eyes, pressing her lips firmly together for a long moment before answering, "I don't _know_, Seeley. We knew about the choice, he told us. She didn't want you to have to make it."

It felt like his chest was cracking open. Hannah hadn't exactly said it, maybe didn't even realize it, but suddenly, Booth couldn't believe he hadn't understood sooner.

Brennan had thought she'd known what his choice would be.

So she'd saved him from having to make it.

Bones thought he'd have left her to die.

And after five months of blowing her off, pushing her aside, slowly cutting her out of every aspect of his life that wasn't work related…after that last conversation, after his claim not to need her….who could blame her?

He was making small, involuntary gasping sounds. Hannah was staring at him, some of her anger and hurt giving away to alarm as Booth's face slowly crumpled, and he swayed unsteadily on his feet, the world tilting beneath his feet.

"Seeley?" The unease on Hannah's face was genuine, and she actually stepped toward him reaching, but Booth stumbled backwards, away from her.

"Don't. Please, please don't. Please." He made a choking sound, and briefly ran a hand over his face. It came back wet, though Booth wasn't aware of tears. "Please."

The muscles in Hannah's face tightened and she shook her head, his distress not enough to move her this time. "Fine." She turned on her heel and headed back to the hospital.

Three minutes later, Booth found the ability to move, and he stumbled around until he found his car in a parking garage.

He put his fist through the window before getting in and driving calmly away, shards of glass sprinkling a trail of destruction behind him.

~(B*B)~

Hannah found the others in Brennan's hospital room.

"Hi," Hannah said hoarsely as she entered, trying to push away her discomfort. She felt shaky and slightly sick after that fight, but she hadn't been lying; she wanted to see Brennan.

Angela frowned in her direction. "He really isn't coming back?"

"Um, no. I talked to him, but he left." Hannah flushed. "Sorry."

"Not your fault," Cam offered kindly.

Angela, though, crossed her arms and sent Hodgins a pointed look. "Well, that settles it. I'm not leaving."

Cam and Sweets looked pointedly away, while Hodgins sighed. "Ange, you're exhausted. You've been awake for days. You've _been_ saying you don't feel well, and you've had enough stress to send a woman _half_ as pregnant into preterm labor. You need to sleep. In a bed."

Angela shook her head stubbornly. "I'm not leaving Bren to wake up alone."

"I can stay."

Four pairs of eyes swiveled to stare at Hannah, who tried to maintain a casual expression even under their scrutiny.

Angela shot Hodgins an annoyed look, as if to say it was entirely his fault. She was trying to come up with a tactful way to refuse Hannah's offer, sure she was the last person Brennan would want keeping vigil…

Cam seemed to sense this. "You know, I can call Michelle and see if she can just stay the night at a friend's."

Sweets shook his head, "It'd be much easier for me to just cancel plans with Daisy-"

"I don't mind staying," Hannah interrupted, then amended, "I _want_ to stay. She saved my life." She spoke the last bit almost defiantly, as though expecting an argument with them similar to Seeley's.

Finally, though, Angela just nodded. "Thank you. Tell her I'll be back first thing, okay?"

"I will."

"And tell her I wouldn't have left if I wasn't being forced to."

"Of course."

"Fine." Angela stood, putting her hand over Brennan's briefly before following Hodgins out of the room. Sweets left soon after, followed by Cam, who thanked Hannah again as she left.

And then they were alone.

~(B*B)~

It felt like she was swimming her way through a dense, foggy body of water. Brennan could hear voices, though they were garbled and indistinctive, and a distant beeping. Light reached her next, vague shapes drifting in and out of her vision.

It took a good five minutes of lying still, her eyes closed, taking deep, slow breaths, before Brennan clawed her way back to reality. This time, though, when she opened her eyes, her vision was only slightly blurred. She realized the voices were coming from the television.

And, as she turned her head to the side, she saw the last person she would have expected to be sitting alone at her bedside.

Brennan studied her for several long seconds before Hannah looked away from the TV and noticed her. "Oh!" She straightened up. "Hi."

"Hey," Brennan answered, then winced at the rough croaking that was her voice.

"Here…" Hannah was up, and filling a small plastic cup full of water. "Drink this."

Brennan did, eyeing the other woman, almost wary. She kept glancing at the door.

"He isn't here," Hannah finally told her.

"Oh." Brennan wasn't yet awake enough to pretend not to know who Hannah meant.

"He's, um…I don't know where he is." Hannah shook her head. "He didn't leave until we knew you were alright though."

"Well, it's not important," Brennan replied quickly. "Um, what about Angela?"

"She went to get some sleep. Only under extreme protest, though. She said to tell you she'd be back soon. Same with the others."

"Alright." Brennan stared down at her hands; there were bandages and splints around three of her fingers. She reached up, touching the cut on her face, then the one of her forehead. Bandaged, both, and she could feel stitches underneath. "You don't have to stay here."

"I know," Hannah answered. "I don't mind."

Awkward silence hung between them for several minutes, thick with everything that had happened in the basement.

After awhile of this, Hannah asked conversationally, "How do you feel?"

"Normal post-operative pain," Brennan asserted. "Though it seems they've got me on an adequate amount of medication."

"Uh…that's good." Hannah paused. "I wanted to thank you. For saving my life, and for what you did down there. I…I would have never been able to do that."

Brennan looked away. "It was nothing. I was merely speeding up an inevitability."

"What do you mean?"

"Either way, you were getting out…we both knew that."

Hannah gave a short laugh. "I'm not so sure…"

Glancing over, her eyes suddenly hard and intense, Brennan said quietly, "Then you haven't been paying very close attention."

_A/N: Sooo, there you go. Brennan's awake and okay, but there's a lot of fallout to deal with, and in some ways, our troubles are just beginning. Keep doing what you're doing (long chaper, long review maybe? Yes? Really any would be great), and I'll do my best to update within a few days. _


	8. Apologies

_Nonessential Author's Note Slash Apology: Sorry for the wait guys…I know I had you used to the every other day updates. But I had a busy week, with two major filming/editing projects (super time consuming) and a test this week. Plus I had still more temporary computer trouble and lost part of the chapter when I started it. Oh, and there was the episode on Thursday that rendered me unable to write without doing something ridiculous like making Brennan steal HANNAH'S sunglasses. Before shooting her. Yeah, I was pretty mad. _

_But this chapter is really long, and I like it a lot, so hopefully it was worth the wait? Be sure to let me know what you think. Song is "Apologies" by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. _

_Essential Author's Note: I'm not sure how clear I was on the timeline of this whole thing, but just to clarify so there's no confusion…Brennan was abducted in the wee hours of the morning, while Hannah had been taken the night before. Booth found her in the afternoon, and it was evening when she got out of surgery (hence Sweets comment about changing plans with Daisy to stay). That is all._

Chapter Seven

Apologies

_Yesterday he said my eyes  
Were fading fast away  
I said well what do you expect  
You asked me not to stay and if it had all been for the best  
I wouldn't feel this way  
And he said_

_Oh he said it's crazy  
How love stays with me  
You know it hurts me  
Cause I don't wanna fight this war  
It's amazing to see me reading through this scene  
Of love and fear and apologies_

Glancing over, her eyes suddenly hard and intense, Brennan said quietly, "Then you haven't been paying very close attention."

Hannah wasn't sure how to respond to that. She just shrugged noncommittally and pretended to be very interested in the heart monitor.

For the next half hour or so, the hospital room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the five minutes a surgeon came in to check on Brennan.

Hannah was trying to think of something to say, when the door to Brennan's room flung open and she was saved the trouble.

"Sweetie!" Angela flew at her best friend, while Hodgins trudged in after her, holding an overnight bag, the look on his face suggesting he'd lost several arguments recently.

Given that it had been just over four hours since they left, it wasn't hard to imagine what those arguments were about.

Angela was tearfully hugging Brennan, a feat that could not have been more difficult between Angela's very pregnant stomach and Brennan's position on the bed. "I'm so glad you're alright! _Are_ you alright? You better _never _scare me like that again, Bren…How do you feel? Are they giving you enough pain meds?"

"_I'm_ fine, Ange," Brennan answered, gently extracting herself from her best friends' hold. "You couldn't have gotten much sleep…it's very important for you and the fetus that you get enough sleep."

"Don't call it a fetus, Sweetie," Angela replied automatically, a smile tugging at her lips at the familiarity of the moment. "And I'm staying." She through a look over her shoulder at her husband. "Hodgins?"

"Oh, right, I'm going." He smiled at Brennan. "Glad you're okay, Dr. B." Setting the bag down by the door, he headed out. "Be right back."

"Where's he going?"

"Don't worry about him," Angela said dismissively. She pulled a chair close to Brennan's bed, across from Hannah's. She scrutinized Brennan's face, reaching out and tenderly brushing back a lock of hair so she could see the stitches. "Oh, Sweetie, what did he do to you?"

As Brennan muttered something about it not being too bad, Hannah grabbed her bag and stood up, awkwardly moving toward the door. "I'm going to take off….get some sleep. But I'll see you later?"

"Sure," Brennan smiled slightly. "Thanks, Hannah."

"No, don't, um…" She flushed a little. "Thank _you_."

Then she was gone.

Angela met Brennan's eyes and smiled sadly. "Booth never came back, Sweetie?"

"No, he didn't." Brennan lowered her eyes before saying in a thoroughly unconvincing tone. "It doesn't matter."

Angela sighed, frustrated. "Yeah, it _does_, Bren. He should be here. Especially since it's his fault this happened-"

"_What_?" Brennan's gaze snapped back to Angela, horrified. "It wasn't his fault that man had a warped sense of revenge-"

"I'm not talking about that, Bren, I'm talking about why you were alone in your apartment instead of with us at the lab. What he said-"

"_Stop_." Brennan's voice was fierce, but there was an undercurrent of panic that made Angela stop talking immediately. "I, I don't want to talk about that, Angela. It was _not_ Booth's fault, did…" She suddenly met Angela's eyes again, almost accusing. "Did you _say_ that to him? Is that why he isn't…" Brennan stopped talking abruptly at the sympathetic look on Angela's face.

"Sweetie, believe me, I didn't have to. He blamed himself more than anyone." She paused, watching Brennan carefully for a reaction. "He was so scared, Bren-"

"Angela, just…. Can we not talk about it right now? Please?"

There was something slightly desperate in Brennan's tone, and Angela's chest constricted at the pained expression on her best friend's face. "Sure," she answered quietly. "I'm sorry."

Silence hung for a moment, then Angela reached out and wordlessly took Brennan's hand in hers.

After a moment of this, Hodgins reappeared in the doorway, pushing a wheelchair. He arched an eyebrow. "Am I interrupting?"

"It's fine," Angela answered smoothly, not letting go of Brennan. "Are we good?"

He shot his wife a thumbs up. "Good to go, yeah. A nurse is on her way to help move."

"Great, thanks!" Angela beamed at him.

"What's going on?" Brennan finally asked, confused.

"We're moving to a double patient room," Angela told Brennan. "So I can stay the night."

"Aren't those usually for two patients?"

"Yeah," Hodgins put in. "But my last name's on their cardiology wing, so…" He smiled a little sheepishly. "Not that I'm proud of this."

"Well, I am," Angela countered, already standing up. "Though I would've slept on a chair if I had to."

Brennan gave Angela a small smile, suddenly very, very grateful for her best friend. "Thank you."

~(B*B)~

Hannah walked cautiously into her apartment, but it was immediately obvious Seeley wasn't there.

Not that she was surprised; he'd made it abundantly clear earlier she was the last person he wanted to see.

Well, fine. She didn't want to see him, either. Everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours seemed to hit her all at once, and all Hannah wanted was to be in her own bed, safe and asleep.

And, for now, it was all the better that Seeley Booth wasn't with her.

His expression from earlier, the one of undisguised disgust when he'd basically accused her of not being injured enough was still all too fresh in her mind. No matter how devastated he'd looked at the end of their fight, she couldn't bring herself to worry about him.

God knows he hadn't seemed to worry about her.

~(B*B)~

"Another."

Adam, one of their regular bar tenders at Founding Fathers, gave Booth a hesitant look.

Before he could refuse, Booth fumbled around in his pocket and tossed his keys on the table. His slightly unfocused gaze found Adam's. "Another."

The bartender nodded and complied, his eyes darting once again to Booth's bloody hand.

Booth downed the double shooter, his throat burning. He'd driven around aimlessly for over an hour before realizing he had nowhere to go.

Not his apartment; he didn't want to see Hannah. Not the hospital; he _couldn't_ see Bones.

But driving was no good for him, either. He couldn't stop picturing Brennan in that basement, hurt and scared and alone.

And, of course, that led to thoughts of how she got there, everything he'd done to her and everything she'd done _for_ him in spite of it.

So he'd found himself pulling into the bar.

Booth was a proponent of the 'drink away the pain' method of dealing. He'd seen its failures firsthand, far too often.

But right now he would accept even a temporary fix.

So he drank. He drank to chase away the image of Brennan's face after he said he didn't need her. He drank to chase away the knowledge that she'd thought he'd leave her to die. He drank to chase away the guilt over not being with her now.

He couldn't let himself stop.

~(B*B)~

"Bren? Are you still awake?"

"Yes," Brennan answered immediately.

She heard Angela shift slightly. "You should sleep, Sweetie."

"I will." Brennan didn't elaborate on the reason she couldn't yet, in spite of utter exhaustion. Every time Brennan closed her eyes, as irrational as it was, she could see Greg Thomas' face, looming over her. She could almost feel his hands, touching her, his body pressing her against a wall…

Angela didn't need to know all that.

After a moment, Angela's voice cut through the darkness again, quiet and tentative. "Is it true, what Hannah said? Did you really…you told him to take her back and keep you?"

"Yeah," Brennan answered, her tone suggesting this was a perfectly obvious decision. "He was going to make Booth choose."

"I swear to God, Bren, you have to stop doing that…nearly getting yourself killed all the time."

"It was hardly a dramatic gesture. That I was going to be the one left with him was an inevitability…all I did was hasten the time frame."

Angela's throat tightened and tears welled in her eyes. It was the matter of fact tone of Brennan's voice that broke Angela's heart. When she could speak, Angela asked thickly, "Why do you think that, Sweetie?"

There was a pause, and then Brennan said in a small voice, "He loves her, Angela." After a moment, she added, "And you heard what he said."

It took Angela a moment to realize that Brennan was talking about Booth's comment just before Brennan disappeared. "He was upset, Bren, he didn't mean that-"

"Yes, he did," she said firmly.

"Sweetie, you didn't see him when he realized you were gone... Or his _face_ when Hannah told us what you did-"

"Booth takes responsibility for everything, you know that," Brennan countered flatly. "He thinks it's his job to save everyone, so of course he was worried."

"This was _you_ in danger, Sweetie, you know it was more than that-"

"_Stop_." The fierceness in Brennan's voice left Angela no room to question the demand. "Just…_please_ stop talking about Booth, alright?" There was a pause, and then Brennan nearly whispered, "He isn't _here_, Angela. Now that I'm fine, he…he's not here." After a moment, she added, "And that's fine."

Brennan's tone didn't convince Angela for a second, but it was obviously not the time to push her. So she simply said, "I'm so sorry, Bren."

"I'm fine," Brennan replied, the slightest catch in her voice.

"Okay," Angela answered her voice gentle. Brennan was the strongest person she knew, and Angela loved her for that…after all, it was what had saved her life today.

But Angela wished she didn't feel the need to be so strong _all _the time.

~(B*B)~

Even in his current state, Booth could see the surprise on the cab driver's face when he asked to be dropped off at the Hoover.

"I work here," he informed him as he opened the door. "I have an office."

"Good for you," the driver muttered.

Soon Booth was slowly and unsteadily making his way through the dark building to his office. He wished he had a couch in there. Bones' office had a couch.

He wished he was in Bones' office.

But he was tired, and his arms made a good enough pillow.

So, his mind finally, blissfully blank, Booth sat at his desk, lay his head down and fell asleep.

~(B*B)~

Cam, Sweets and Hodgins all came back to see her the next day.

Booth did not.

Brennan didn't miss the questioning look Cam gave Angela when she came in the room, mouthing his name and earning a shake of Angela's head. But thankfully, none of them mentioned him to her.

Because Brennan was trying not to think about him. She was trying so, so hard to forget about the look in his eyes yesterday, something so familiar even though she hadn't seen it in so long. Or the way he said her name when he found her, the way it was like falling right back into something they'd left behind.

No. She had to remember things had changed.

Booth had called her out on being miserable and alone, and he'd said he didn't need her. All of that was before he was racked with guilt over her nearly dying.

Brennan didn't have to be adept at psychology to know that she had to trust the last five months of cool distance over the panicked few minutes she'd seen yesterday.

So she forced a smile while her friends made conversation. She talked with her surgeon about physical therapy. She accepted Angela's offer for her to stay with her and Hodgins for the first few weeks after her discharge (something the doctor's insisted on).

And she reminded herself over and over that nothing had changed.

~(B*B)~

Booth had been awake for less than half an hour when Hacker came into his office without knocking.

"Booth? Surprised you came in today…why are you sitting in the dark?" Hacker flicked on the light switch, and Booth instantly winced, screwing his eyes shut. Taking in his bloodshot eyes and rumpled clothes, Hacker's eyebrows lifted. "You look like hell."

"Thanks a bunch," Booth mumbled, grabbing a water bottle that was probably several days old and warm so he could down an aspirin.

"Look, Randall's waiting to get your statement about what happened. You were acting independent of the FBI in this matter, understand? So your capacity was as a victim of a crime, not an agent."

Booth heard the barest hint of warning in Hacker's voice, and nodded gratefully. He hadn't followed FBI protocol, complying with Thomas' wish that he not contact other agents. "Understand."

"Randall's across the hall waiting to interview you. After that, take the day off. Go be with your girl."

Booth nodded a little. "Sure, thanks."

Hacker turned to go, but a thought occurred to Booth and he called after him, "Uh, sir? Do you know, have they interviewed Dr. Brennan yet?"

"No, Wilson's heading over the hospital now to get her statement. He already talked to Hannah this morning."

Frowning, Booth stood, finally starting to feel awake. "You think he could hold off on that? She just came out of surgery last night, and there's no rush. The guy's dead."

"Even so, we want to get this squared away." He gave him a look. "We did come in late in the game, Booth."

Gritting his teeth, Booth replied tersely, "I think you should give her a little more time."

"He's already on his way, Booth, nothing I can do. If Temperance isn't up to it, I'm sure she'll let them know."

Booth glared at the other man. "I'm going to need to see that file when they're done."

Hacker instantly shook his head. "Not your case, Booth. Remember?"

~(B*B)~

Hodgins was in the middle of a long and complicated story about his entomology professor in college when an agent Brennan vaguely recognized knocked awkwardly on her open hospital door.

"Hi. Dr. Brennan? I'm Special Agent Paul Wilson…I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?"

Angela, who was sitting on the edge of Brennan's bed, bristled instantly. "Now's not a good time."

"I'm sorry to rush you, but we'd like to get this done as soon as possible-"

"Why?" Cam, who was perched on the other bed, put in challengingly. "The guy's dead, why the rush?"

"It's okay," Brennan interrupted before the agent could form an explanation. "I don't mind."

Slowly, the others nodded, and Cam, Hodgins and Sweets stood up and began shuffling toward the door.

Angela set her jaw stubbornly. "Fine, I'll stay."

"Ange, you don't have to," Brennan told her. "Really."

"I'm fine right here."

Brennan's gaze flicked over to Hodgins, and he seemed to sense the panic there even if he didn't understand it. "Why don't you come with me, babe…we'll pick up some food for everyone and be back here by the time they're done."

Uncertainly, Angela's gaze moved from Brennan to her husband and back again. Meeting her eyes, Brennan nodded once. "Please, Ange?"

Hurt and then worry flickered across Angela's face, but she nodded and hugged Brennan quickly before standing. "It'll be okay," she told her, offering the reassurance even if Brennan didn't need it.

The others waved as they walked out of the room.

"We'll be in the waiting room," Cam told her.

"And we'll be back with food," Hodgins said again, smiling at her.

"Thanks," Brennan said, worrying the ends of the bed sheets between her fingers, not yet looking at the agent looming awkwardly in the corner.

When the door clicked shut behind Sweets, Agent Wilson pulled the chair Hodgins had occupied toward him and sat down. "I'll try not to take too long here, Dr. Brennan. You know the drill…just take me through everything that happened. "

"Alright," Brennan said, meeting his gaze for the first time. "But I have one question before we start."

"Sure."

"Is Agent Booth going to have access to this interview?"

The agent shook his head. "Booth isn't being treated as an agent on this case, so he won't be looking at the files."

"Okay." Brennan drew a breath, and began.

~(B*B)~

After his interview, Booth walked to the bar to get his car, and then drove to his apartment. He circled the parking lot twice to assure himself that Hannah's car wasn't there.

He'd figured she wouldn't skip work, and he was grateful for that. He just had to be gone by the time she'd be home.

It wasn't fair, his resentment towards Hannah. But he couldn't help it, and the realization that Bones had been so positive he would have chosen Hannah made Booth feel like even being around her was wrong.

He _knew_ that was unfair, though. Just like he knew it was unfair to blame Hannah for everything that happened to Bones when it was so obviously _his _fault.

So it was only with the knowledge that Hannah wasn't there that Booth entered his own home. He showered. He ate food without really tasting it. He slept for a few hours.

Then, an hour before Hannah usually got home, Booth packed a bag and drove to a hotel.

~(B*B)~

After she gave her detailed statement to Agent Wilson, the others came back into Brennan's room as promised. Hodgins and Angela returned baring bags of takeout, and Brennan was glad for the distraction of their company.

Angela, though, was quiet through the meal. Brennan was debating asking her if she was alright when, in an unusual lull, Angela blurted out, "What did you not want me to hear?"

Brennan stared at her, a little startled at her perceptiveness. Cam and Sweets froze, while Hodgins murmured softly, "Angie…"

Angela ignored him, her eyes boring into Brennan's. "I mean…was it that horrible? Did he do something else to you?"

Brennan flushed slightly, then touched her fingers to her cheek. "There's nothing else, Ange. Promise. It's not as though I can really hide this."

Exhaling slowly, Angela nodded. "Okay. Good."

Sweets, though, was watching Brennan carefully, and she was all too aware of his gaze. Shifting uncomfortably, hurriedly tried to think of a subject change.

Cam, though, did it for her. Sort of. "I suppose they got statements from Hannah and Booth already, too."

Sweets nodded. "They probably weren't happy Booth didn't call the kidnapping in. It's not policy even if the kidnapper demands no further law enforcement."

Brennan looked up at that. "But…he won't get in trouble, will he?"

"I doubt it," Cam reassured her quickly. "They'll just emphasize the fact that he wasn't on the case in his capacity as an agent." Brennan's expression reflected instant relief, and after studying her for a moment, Cam exchanged a look with Angela and suggested tentatively, "You know, one of us could call him-"

"_No_," Brennan cut her off vehemently. Then, seeing their somewhat startled expressions, she continued in a casual voice, "I mean, he shouldn't come. He should be with Hannah she…she was pretty shaken up."

The others exchanged looks, and Angela shook her head slightly at Cam. Brennan had no idea what the silent communication was about, but she felt vaguely annoyed by it. "What?" She snapped irritably. "Is there something you'd like to say?"

More looks were exchanged, and simultaneously they all shook their heads or muttered _no_'s. Cam, though, could feel her own irritation growing.

Directed at Seeley Booth.

~(B*B)~

Cam and Sweets both left around dinner time, and Hodgins went out once again to get food for himself, Angela and Brennan.

It took hours of convincing, though, to dissuade Angela from staying the night again.

Brennan could see Angela was tired, in spite of the full night's sleep. Those hospital beds were tiny and uncomfortable, and Brennan knew from countless rants over the past few months that Angela had a hard time sleeping comfortably at the moment in _any_ bed.

So Brennan insisted. "Angela, I'm going to be here for at least three more nights. It's unreasonable to expect you to stay for all of them."

"Why not?" Angela replied stubbornly. "I don't mind."

"I'm alone in my apartment every other night," Brennan pointed out. "I'm perfectly capable of sleeping then."

"Yes, but you're not in a _hospital_."

"I don't see the significance."

Hodgins bit back a smile at the argument in front of him. "Maybe she's right, Angie. Come home for the night…you didn't bring enough clothes for tomorrow anyway."

"Angela, it's really okay."

Reluctantly, Angela stood. "Fine. If you're sure. But only so I can get the guest room ready for you to come stay. Which you _aren't_ backing out of, I don't care if you think you're fine on your own."

"The doctors have made it abundantly clear that I don't have a choice, Ange."

"Good." She hugged Brennan, hard. "I'll be back in the morning, alright?"

"You don't have to-"

"I know that. I'll see you tomorrow. Night, Sweetie."

~(B*B)~

"You okay, babe?" Hodgins asked ten minutes into their silent car ride.

Angela sighed. "I just hate leaving her. Maybe I should go back…"

"You know how Brennan is, Ange. She doesn't want to feel like she's putting anyone out, needing to be taken care of."

"Yeah, well, that's stupid." Angela raked a hand through her hair, upset. "I just can't believe Booth never showed up. As scared as he was, and as bad as he felt…now he doesn't even show up?"

"I know."

"If he's somewhere just…taking care of Hannah, I'll kill him. She wasn't even hurt."

"I know. But I don't think that's it," Hodgins told her. "He left without her, too, remember?"

"Right. But still…he should be here."

"I agree," Hodgins said seriously. "I get he feels bad but…staying away is just going to give him more to feel guilty over."

~(B*B)~

Booth woke up with a start, trembling and drenched in a cold sweat.

Nausea swelled in his stomach, and Booth had a feeling it had nothing to do with the drinks he'd had in his hotel room before going to bed.

He'd had a nightmare. He'd been moving through the basement of the art studio, screaming Bones' name. The corridors had been endless; the rooms empty except for puddles of blood.

Finally, though, he'd heard her voice. Screaming for him.

But when Booth had opened his mouth to answer, he'd heard himself say, seemingly uncontrolled, _"I don't need you!" _

Again and again he tried to answer, but he couldn't say anything but that phrase, over and over. Eventually, she'd stopped calling for him.

And the blood splatters kept growing under his feet.

Booth stumbled blindly into the tiny bathroom, splashing cold water on his face and sucking in great gulps of air.

When he felt slightly steadier, Booth walked out of the bathroom and glanced at the digital clock by the bed.

It was 3: 02 a.m.

And he had to see Bones.

~(B*B)~

Brennan could only sleep, it seemed, in half hour bursts. Every time, she woke up in a state of unwarranted panic she couldn't fully understand.

This time, she'd been awake for only a few minutes when her door opened slightly, dim light flooding the room.

The door closed almost immediately, but footsteps entered the room and Brennan tensed instantly, until she heard a familiar voice whisper, "Bones..."

A new knot of panic tightened in Brennan's chest, for entirely different reasons. She closed her eyes again, a reflex. Brennan wasn't sure she was ready to deal with Booth now.

He stayed away for more than a full day, and even now he clearly wasn't expecting her to be awake.

Brennan didn't know how she was supposed to feel about that.

She heard him pull a chair close to her bed, but Booth was clearly trying to stay quiet. He didn't say another word once he sat down, and Brennan didn't open her eyes to look at him.

They stayed like that for a good twenty minutes, Booth silent, Brennan feigning sleep.

Brennan hated admitting it, but his presence alone made her feel better, less uneasy. The memories of Greg Thomas and the dark basement were less palpable, somehow, with Booth there.

But she didn't want that. She couldn't need him like this. Not anymore.

Suddenly, Brennan heard a shuffling of movement, followed by his footsteps, heading toward the door. Her chest tightened, and before she could stop herself, she was saying, "Booth?"

He froze, inches from the doorway, keeping his back to her. It was a measure of his own cowardice that Booth briefly, instinctually considered bolting, pretending not to hear.

The instant the thought had formed, though, Booth rejected it, disgusted with himself. Slowly, he turned and made himself face her. Hoarsely, he managed, "Hi."

"Hey." Brennan reached out and turned on the light that ran right above her bed, getting her first good look at Booth.

He was wearing rumpled sweatpants and a hoodie. His hair was slightly bedridden, and his eyes were bloodshot.

And he smelled like booze.

"Are you alright?" She asked him softly.

He laughed once, a frightening, hollow sound. "You shouldn't be asking me that."

Dimly, Brennan noticed that he wasn't moving to take his seat back.

"How are you?" Booth asked finally.

"Fine," Brennan told him. "They're keeping me for three more days, though, which I think is unnecessary."

"That's good, though, they're, um…being sure."

"Yeah."

Booth's chest hurt; he hated this. It used to be so easy with Bones, the most natural thing in the world. But now, he could barely talk to her without a reminder of his own failure screaming in his ear.

How did she not hate him? Why was she not yelling? What the hell was he supposed to say to make this right?

"I…I have to go," he blurted suddenly, backing away toward the door.

"Oh," There was surprise there, and also a hurt that Booth tried not to hear. "Alright."

He paused halfway out the door, shame burning in his gut. "I'm sorry."

Booth meant he was sorry for everything. For what a terrible friend he'd been for five months, for what he'd said to her, for what had happened to her, for what he'd made her think…

But Brennan only thought he was apologizing for leaving, and before he could elaborate, Brennan replied, "Don't be. You probably have to get back to Hannah."

The words, flat and resigned in their delivery, hit Booth like a punch to the gut. There was no bitterness there, no accusation.

That's really what she thought of him. That the only thing he could manage was a twenty minute hospital visit in the middle of the night.

He used to be one of the few people Brennan counted on and trusted. And now she barely expected anything from him.

_He'd_ done that.

Tears clogged his throat and rose to his eyes, pricking angrily. Booth was suddenly certain if he stayed another moment, he'd break down and cry like a baby in front of Bones.

He mumbled something incoherent and turned away, but her voice stopped him again. "Booth?"

She'd turned the light off again, and that was the only thing that made him turn around again, though he didn't trust himself to speak.

"You don't have to come back."

_That_ he hadn't been expecting.

"What?" He managed to force out the word.

"I just…Angela she, she keeps saying you should be here."

Booth squeezed his eyes shut, battling back the tears.

"But…you don't have to come back. I know you…you're busy, and…Hannah's going through a lot too, I imagine. But thank you. For saving me."

He lost the battle. Tears dripped down Booth's face, and he had to clench his jaw to bite back sobs.

It took a valiant effort to force out a parting sentence, "Please don't thank me. For anything."

Before she could stop him again, Booth whirled around and went out the door.

~(B*B)~

Brennan didn't tell Angela that Booth had come by.

Thankfully, Brennan had protested enough that Angela and everyone else had stopped brining him up, so there was never a moment where she felt the need to share.

But all day, as her other friends moved in and out, she kept glancing at the door, part of her unable to stop hoping that, in spite of her reassurance that he wasn't expected, Booth would come back anyway.

He never did.

~(B*B)~

When she hadn't seen him for more than a day, Hannah finally broke down and called Seeley.

She tried him three times, with no answer. In spite of herself, she was starting to get worried about him.

So Hannah drove by the Hoover on her lunch break and drove slowly through the parking lot, squinting at license plates of the multiple SUVs until she saw his car.

She restrained herself from going inside. He obviously didn't want to talk to her.

Hannah did call Cam to ask how Brennan was doing. It took a few questions, but she was able to figure out that Booth still hadn't returned to the hospital.

Selfishly, Hannah couldn't help but be a little relieved. At least she wasn't the only one being ignored.

~(B*B)~

Booth returned to Founding Fathers that night. Without preamble, he tossed his keys on the bar. "Just keep 'em coming," he told Adam dully.

There was some distant part of Booth's brain that was aware of how stupid he was being. If he was so upset about how he'd treated Bones, the logical thing to do was go to her and make it right. To show her she could still expect more, to prove he would still be there.

But Booth was still reeling from the realization that he'd let it go this far. She'd had to nearly die, because of _him_, for him to actually _see_ what he'd done.

He couldn't handle that. And he couldn't fathom what she'd done for him anyway. How this woman, who a year ago had insisted she didn't have his kind of open heart, would do _anything_ to protect him from hurt when all he'd done lately was hurt her.

So he drank.

He'd been there half an hour when Booth felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun unevenly around, bracing himself to see Hannah.

Instead, Cam was standing there regarding him with a somber expression.

"Seeley."

"Camille," he returned formally. "What're you doing here?"

She eyed the bar in front of him and arched an eyebrow. "Are you drunk?"

"Getting there," he said honestly.

Cam took the seat next to him. "What are you doing, Seeley?"

"I'm drinking. You can join me, but I don't want to talk."

Her eyes flashed. "Well that's too bad, as that happens to be what I'm here for." She leaned forward, holding his gaze. "Where have you been staying?"

"Hotel."

"Why is that?"

"Don't want to see Hannah," The alcohol made him honest. "Can't."

"What about Brennan?" She asked quietly. "You don't want to see her, either?"

"I do. I want. But I can't." He stared into the empty Scotch glass in front of him. "I left her alone, Camille. She thinks I don't care."

"You not seeing her at the hospital probably isn't doing much to assure her otherwise."

Booth's head snapped up. "I saw her," he said earnestly. "Last night, in the middle of the night. But I didn't stay long."

"Ah." That was news to Cam. "Why didn't you stay?"

"I can't fix it," he said morosely. "I can't. She coulda died, and I said I don't need her. I said that to _Bones_. To _Bones_." He paused, then reiterated. "I said I didn't need _Bones_. That's…that's crazy. But I can't take it back."

He waved a hand at Adam for another refill. For a moment, Cam watched him drink. Then, choosing her words carefully, she told him, "Seeley, Greg Thomas went to a lot of trouble to screw up your life. But he failed…they're both alive."

"He shot Bones. He…he really hurt her."

"But she's going to be fine. She's getting discharged tomorrow. And what happened to her isn't Hannah's fault…or yours." She stood up. "Greg Thomas wanted to screw up your life, Seeley. Don't help him out by doing it yourself."

~(B*B)~

But the next night, Booth was right back at the bar. He'd ignored three calls from Hannah that day, and one from Cam.

He hadn't slept last night without nightmares.

He'd been in his usual place for only twenty minutes when he saw them, gathered around a table in the corner.

Cam, Hodgins, Angela, Sweets, and Daisy.

And Bones.

He stood up jerkily, trying to get a better look.

She had crutches leaning on her chair, and her leg was propped up on a chair to the side, a position that looked very uncomfortable. He could still see the stitches on her cheek, and on her forehead.

But she was there. And she was smiling at something Cam had said.

Something swelled up inside of Booth, and he felt himself moving toward her. He ignored the others looks, not stopping until he was right in front of her.

"How could you do this to me?"

Brennan stared up at him, more startled than anything. "Booth, what-?"

"_How_ could you? You, you, you _told_ him he should just kill you? What about _me_, did you ever think about how _I'd _feel?"

Brennan looked genuinely bewildered for a moment, but then her eyes hardened. "I was doing that _for_ you. So you wouldn't have to choose."

"Oh, so you just decided you knew what I'd want? That you knew what was best?" Booth's eyes were wild, and his voice cracked with his next statement. "You could've _died_, Bones. Then what, huh? What about _me_? What was I supposed to do if I had _lost you_?"

Angela froze halfway out of her seat. She'd been about two seconds from letting Booth have it, but the last comment stopped her. Maybe this is what Brennan needed…to know that Booth _had_ cared.

But Brennan was regarding him with an expression of quiet anger, and it took her a moment to say in tight voice, "I guess you would have found another partner."

Booth took an actual step back, as though the words carried a physical force that crashed into him. Around them, everyone had gone dead silent.

Brennan held Booth's gaze, though, neither of them aware of their audience. He could only stare at her, and for the first time Brennan's eyes betrayed all the hurt she felt.

No more pretenses. No more fake smiles.

"Is that really what you think?" Booth finally asked, his voice quiet. "That's really all you think you are to me?"

"_Yes_," Brennan said, her voice catching. "And anyone reviewing the recent evidence would draw the same conclusion."

"So that's it? The _recent_ evidence…you can just forget about the past _five_ _years_?"

"Why not, it seems _you can_," Brennan shot back. Booth could see tears sparkling in her eyes now, but she wasn't letting them fall.

Booth felt like he was drowning again, and the alcohol was only a small part of it. "Bones…" He reached out, instinctually, to touch her arm.

She flinched away from his touch, drawing back. Booth's eyes widened, surprised, and then, slowly, his face crumpled into a stricken expression and it was all Brennan could do not to drag her gaze away.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, he said, "I was…there…if you needed me. I would've…I would've been there."

Brennan laughed once, but it came out more like a sob. "Then where have you been, Booth? Three days in the hospital and I talked to you for two minutes, in the middle of the night."

His eyes flashed. "You told me not to come back!"

"Minor correction, I said you didn't _have_ to."

Booth's brain was operating slightly below his usual standard, and it took him a moment to draw the distinction. "I don't…huh?"

"I don't want to be you obligation, Booth," Brennan forced out through clenched teeth. "Or your guilt trip. So, yes, I'm your _partner_. And I won't be able to be in the field for several months, so you'll get a break from even that."

For a long moment they stared at each other, and Booth could feel everything they'd lost hanging there between them, unbearably close but just out of reach.

"If I'm so horrible," he said finally. "Then why did you do that for me?"

Brennan's shoulders sagged, and Booth could almost see the fight draining out of her. She gave him a helpless look, shaking her head. "You know why."

Cam was suddenly beside Booth, stepping between them. "Okay, Seeley, you've interrupted our celebration here-"

He ignored her, stepping to the side to hold Bones' gaze. "No, I don't…"

Brennan blinked, and a tear slipped away, betraying her. "Booth…I just wanted you to be okay. And there's not much I wouldn't do to make that happen."

The sadness in her voice, and the sincerity, broke his heart.

Cam was speaking again, but Booth was frozen, staring at Brennan. "It's time for you to go, Booth-"

But Brennan finally tore her gaze away from him and looked at Angela. "I think I want to go home."

Angela nodded, as Hodgins grabbed her crutches and passed them over. "Of course, Sweetie."

Brennan didn't look back at him as she slowly made her way out, between Hodgins and Angela. Cam and Sweets followed, not giving him another glance.

~(B*B)~

Hannah was lying on the couch, a blanket over her, bowl of popcorn in front of her when the door to the apartment opened and Booth walked in.

"Seeley?" She sat up, surprised, then glared at him. "Imagine seeing you here."

He was staring at Hannah, but he didn't even seem to hear her; here was something odd in his expression, something disconcerting.

He looked like he had in the hospital the other day, when Brennan was still in surgery. Like a lost, scared little boy.

"You want to tell me where you've been for three days, or am I supposed to guess?" Hannah finally said when Booth stayed silent.

Without answering, Booth crossed the room and, after a second of hesitation, he dropped hard to his knees in front of her, mouth open like he was about to say something, but he couldn't get the words out.

"Seeley, _what_?"

His face slowly crumpled. "I'm sorry. I…I'm sorry." He was shaking so hard Hannah could see it.

Slightly alarmed, she leaned down, reaching for him. "Seeley…"

And then he lifted his head and kissed her, hard.

He tasted like alcohol, and Hannah pulled back quickly. "We have to talk."

Booth shook his head. His eyes were red and weary, his entire demeanor suggesting defeat. "Please…"

He kissed her again, so hard it hurt.

Booth just wanted to feel something. Something besides self-loathing and the terror that he had, in fact, screwed up his life.

He wanted to forget that he and Bones would never be the same. And he wanted to know he hadn't lost her for nothing.

And though she'd tried not to, Hannah had missed him. So she kissed him back.

~(B*B)~

Minutes later they were in the bedroom.

Booth set a hard, furious pace; making love to her with an intensity he never had before.

But there was something different. It wasn't the strangeness between them, all the problems they weren't discussing. It wasn't the recent separation, or even the fact that he hadn't said a word since that second kiss.

Booth never looked at her. Not once.

~(B*B)~

Hannah woke up after only an hour of sleep to find the bed beside her empty.

Panic and anger hit her in equal measure. The first night he comes home in days, and Seeley was treating her like some sort of one night stand?

As her senses became more acute, however, Hannah heard him some slight movement in the rest of the apartment.

She found him sitting at the table in the dark, a glass and a bottle of Scotch in front of him, looking for all the world like he'd lost his best friend.

"Do you want to talk?" She asked quietly, taking a seat beside him.

Booth never looked up from his drink. "Do you remember that weekend we went skiing?"

"Um. Yeah…"

"Bones' birthday was that weekend. The Saturday. But I didn't remember until we got back from dinner that night. Barely sent her a text on time."

Hannah wasn't sure how to respond to that. "At least you remembered."

"I got her some crappy gift at the lodge," he continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"That's…horrible, Seeley, but I think we should talk about us. And why you haven't come home for the past three days."

"I just…I was her best friend. Her family. But then I…I did what her real family did, I abandoned her. I'm just like them. Worse."

Hannah shook her head. "You clearly don't need me for this conversation." She pushed her chair back almost violently and stood up. "Why don't you sleep on the couch?"

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm…I'm sorry. Been a bad few days."

Hannah laughed humorlessly. "Tell me about it." She started to continue on to the bedroom, but something compelled her to stop. "Seeley?"

"Yeah?"

"I know…I know this isn't a fair question. I know I have no right to ask, and it's all a moot point now, anyway, but …" She raised her eyes to meet his. "Who were you going to choose?"

_A/N: Okay, DON'T FREAK OUT. Yes, they had sex. And that was tough to write. A bit disgusting. But Booth's in self destructive mode, throwing himself into temporary fixes (like the alcohol). And he's pretty sure he's ruined things with Brennan for good. Just keep in mind that I HATE Booth and Hannah. But they are still technically together. For now. It'llbe okay._

_ Anyway, hopefully that was long and angsty enough ot make up (a little) for the wait. I'll try to keep it more frequent from this point on. As always, you guys are fantastic, and I love your reviews Tell me everything you think, I love to hear as much as possible from you guys. Thanks for sticking with me, more to come in the next few days._


	9. Polaris

_A/N: Hey, guys. New chapter time. Let's say it was in celebration of a Hannah free episode tonight, huh? Anyway, not much to say. It's pretty long, and it's definitely angsty, so hope you enjoy. Also, good news…I'll be posting the next chapter Saturday night. And it's a pretty big one. Be excited. Because it's coming Saturday. Well, provided you do what you've been doing and leave me your thoughts in the review box. Enjoy! _

_Chapter title comes from Jimmy Eat World's Polaris, and the lyrics are kind of ridiculously accurate for this chapter. Check it out._

Chapter Eight

_Polaris_

_l say it straight and plain  
I know I've made mistakes  
I've always been afraid  
I've always been afraid_

_A thousand nights or more  
I travel east and north  
Please answer the door_

_Can you tell me  
You say that love goes anywhere  
In your darkest time, it's just enough to know it's there  
When you go, I'll let you be  
But you're killing everything in me_

"Who were you going to choose?"

The question knocked the wind out of him, and Booth stared up at Hannah, wide eyed. For a moment he couldn't register anything except shock that she'd actually spoken the question, out loud.

"Are you really asking me that?" He asked in a soft, tight voice.

Hannah folded her arms, trepidation taking her features. It wasn't as though she'd really been expecting it, considering how the past few days had gone, but the fact that he hadn't answered immediately and decisively made her dread the answer as much as she wanted it. "I did say I know it wasn't fair," she replied quietly. "But none of this has been fair, Seeley."

Booth stared fixedly down at his empty glass of Scotch, his fingers suddenly itching to grab the bottle and refill. "I thought I wasn't going to choose. I didn't want to make that decision; I just wanted to save both of you."

Hannah bit back a frustrated groan. "Well, of course you did, Seeley. But you didn't get to her within the time frame even _with_ my help." She paused. "He would've called, Seeley. You would have had to make a choice."

Clenching his jaw, Booth had to struggled to keep the volume of his voice under control. "What I'm _saying_ is that when you showed up, it was still early. I hadn't made a choice yet…I still thought I could find you."

Hannah exhaled slowly, raking her fingers through her hair in frustration. She was going to have to spell this out. "Fine. But…_if I hadn't shown up_. If Temperance hadn't done what she did…who _would_ you have chosen?"

Booth lifted his head to look at her, face twisting into an appalled expression. "You don't see how sick that question is?"

She was glaring at him, voice sharp. "You can't expect me to believe you never even _considered_ it, Seeley."

Suddenly, Booth shoved his chair back in one violent motion, the legs scraping against the floor. He stood, leaning forward, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "What does it matter, Hannah? _Both_ of you, you both thought you knew what I was going to do anyway."

This statement, the truth he'd finally spoken out loud, hung between them, the possible implications dangling there.

Hannah felt hot tears pricking her eyes, and she hated herself for that, for still hoping against hope for the instant reassurance, the easy answer. Swallowing hard, she spat out, "So we were wrong, is that what you were saying?"

Booth flinched, and he had to look away from her. He didn't want to resent her for that, for indirectly confirming that, like Brennan, Hannah had been in no doubt that she, as his girlfriend, would have been the one he would save.

Because why wouldn't she think that?

Hannah knew the last five months of his relationship with Bones, and Booth now knew with aching clarity that he had given no indication that Brennan was anything other than his partner.

Scared by his silence, Hannah pressed on, "You can _tell_ me, Seeley. Believe me, I've been questioning it since you seemed _disappointed_ to see me the other day."

"Damn it, Hannah…did you want to be okay with the fact that Bones had given herself up to that guy, that she'd been left to die? _I _still thought I had time to save you both."

Hannah shook her head helplessly. "You haven't answered the question."

Booth stared at her, a knot twisting in his stomach. He knew what he should say. He should lie. Tell Hannah that of course he would have saved her, no question.

Because he'd ruined things with Bones, beyond repair…five years of building something, and he'd managed to destroy it in five months. Or, depending on how you looked at it, five seconds…the time it took to claim _I don't need you. _

With Hannah, though, there was still a chance. He had screwed up with her, too, recently, but it wasn't beyond forgiveness. He could still salvage things with her. They could move past this.

But he couldn't form the lie. The best he could give her was a low, rough, "I don't know."

Hannah looked away, the glimmer of tears unmistakable in her eyes. She drew a crooked breath, the kind that's almost a sob, and then said in a tight, shaking voice, "I know how this sounds…but it really, really seems like you should know."

"You can't ask me now, it isn't fair," Booth mumbled in a hollow voice. "Now that I know what Bones did, what both of you thought, what happened after…it's not the same kind of choice. You can't ask, not now."

She nodded for a long time, then turned without another word and went into the bedroom.

Booth returned his attention to the bottle.

~(B*B)~

Angela knocked softly on Brennan's door, then cracked it open without waiting for an answer. "Hey."

Brennan was sitting on the bed, having just finished the difficult task of showering and changing clothes. "Hi."

Closing the door behind her, Angela took a few steps into the guest room. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine, Ange."

Shooting her best friend a smile that didn't touch her eyes, Angela sat down on the edge of the bed. "You always say that, Sweetie. It's okay if it isn't always true. It _can't_ always be true."

For some reason, the warm, tender tone of Angela's voice hit Brennan with a sharp pain in the chest, and she suddenly found herself blinking back tears. "I've…missed him." The words were painful, wrenched from some deep hidden space Brennan had long been struggling to compartmentalize. "I know that's irrational, because he's been here but it…it's like he isn't sometimes." Her voice splintered. "A lot of the time."

"I know," Angela murmured soothingly.

Brennan's face twisted. "And he thinks _I _threw away five years…I was trying to protect him." Another sharp, painful memory came back to her suddenly. _You're the one who needs protecting. From __me__. _"All…all I was ever doing was trying…trying to protect him…"

Angela slid over slightly so she was sitting just beside Brennan on the bed. "Sweetie…"

Her voice was thick with tears now. "And I thought…for a second, when he found me, that it was different, but…he didn't stay, Angela." She laughed, the breathless kind of laughter that barely precedes sobbing. "The one time he was there he tried to leave before I saw him. He didn't come back." The last bit of control snapped, suddenly, sobs rising from her throat, and her last words were nearly lost in them. "He doesn't care anymore, he doesn't need me…"

Minimizing the space between them, Angela reached into Brennan's lap and took one of her tightly clenched hands. "Ssh," she murmured quietly as Brennan leaned her head on Angela's shoulder, surprising them both. "It's okay…it's gonna be alright."

~(B*B)~

Booth passed out in Parker's room nearly an hour after Hannah left him alone in the kitchen. He woke up the next morning to a hangover and the memories of nightmares, which was typical, and the smell of breakfast, which wasn't.

He stumbled out of the room to find Hannah, dressed for work, sitting at the kitchen, her hands folded in front of her. There were two plates on the table, and the one in front of her was untouched.

She was waiting for him.

"I really don't think I can eat," Booth informed her bluntly, rubbing his eyes against the brightness of the room.

Hannah rolled her eyes, a gesture that undermined the formality of her posture. "I wonder why." She took a deep breath, obviously making an effort to stay neutral. "Sit anyway. We need to talk."

A knot of dread was forming in the pit of Booth's stomach, but he sat anyway, blinking blearily at her.

Hannah met his eyes and launched right in. "Do you want me here, Seeley?"

"What?" His gaze wavered slightly. "Yeah, sure. Of course I do."

"You're sure?"

"I…yeah." He nodded as though that might enforce his sincerity.

She scrutinized him for several more seconds, then nodded back. "Alright. Then…things have to change. No more staying away all night. Or coming home drunk and going to drink alone in the kitchen..."

Hannah reached out, taking his hand, and for some reason Booth had to fight an urge to pull away. "I know you're having a hard time, Seeley. But I want you to talk to me about it…I was part of that day, too, and…I don't want you to shut me out." She paused, trying to read his face. "And I won't ask you again. I…I know that wasn't fair."

It took Booth a moment to realize she was waiting for him to speak. "Okay. Thank you." Hannah kept looking at him, expectant. Booth pushed away the untouched plate in front of him. "And thanks for breakfast. I gotta go shower."

Hannah frowned, disappointed in his reaction. She glanced at her watch and sighed; she had to leave for work. "So you'll be home tonight?"

Not turning around, Booth answered, "Yeah."

Voice hardening a little, Hannah added, "_Sober_?"

Finally, Booth turned around to look at her. He had to remember that Hannah was who he still had a chance with. He had to stop looking at her and seeing that moment when she'd walked into the lab, untouched, and revealed that Bones had been left behind to die.

His voice softening slightly, Booth told her, "Yes. Promise. And…I'm sorry. About last night."

"Me, too," Hannah replied, but silently she couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't sorry for the three nights before that…the ones when he didn't come home at all.

~(B*B)~

Brennan woke up at 9:47, surprisingly late by her usual standards. She showered, a feat that took at least twice as long as usual with her leg, and eventually hobbled to the kitchen on her crutches.

She was surprised to see Angela sitting at the kitchen table, reading. She glanced up and smiled brightly at Brennan. "Morning Sweetie."

"Morning…" Brennan stopped at the fridge, attempting crane her arm at the handle without letting one of her crutches fall.

Suddenly Angela was beside her, opening the door. "What do you want?"

Flushing slightly, embarrassed at her inability to perform simple tasks, Brennan muttered something about being fine.

Angela, though, reminded her in a no-nonsense tone, "You have medication to take. So whether or not you are _fine_, you need something to drink. So. _What do you want_?"

Chastised, Brennan answered, "Orange juice." She turned awkwardly and hobbled to the table to sit down.

"Thanks," she murmured to Angela as she set the glass and several bottles of pills in front of her.

"No problem. Want anything else? Something to eat?"

"I'm fine."

Angela arched an eyebrow. "Really? Or are you just being stubborn."

Brennan couldn't help but smile at that. "Really." Satisfied, Angela nodded and sat back down across from Brennan, who added, "Why aren't you at work?"

"I'm taking a little bit of early maternity leave," Angela told her with a grin. "At least until you can get back to the lab."

Brennan's eyes softened as she met her best friend's gaze. "You didn't have to do that."

"Bren, I've told you, most people _like_ time off work. It's no problem, okay? I was going to tell you last night, but I kind of forgot."

"Right," Brennan winced a little. No wonder she'd forgotten, after the way Brennan broke down and cried like a three year old.

That had to stop. She'd gotten used to the distance Booth had created between them. She'd accepted that she mattered much less to him.

It hadn't stopped hurting. As she'd said to Angela, she hadn't stopped missing him. But she had least learned to pretend she was okay, and to stop expecting something to change.

She couldn't lose that just because he'd saved her life, and because she'd gotten a brief glimpse of how he used to be.

And even though the idea of not working with him for months gave Brennan a sick, hollow feeling in her stomach…maybe it was for the best.

Because it was hard, being around him every day but really, truly being _just partners._ Brennan wasn't equipped to articulate the exact differences in Booth, but that didn't matter because she could feel them, feel the lack of _something_ that used to be there when he looked at her, or the emptiness in their conversations.

Most days ended with a sharp pang of longing and regret, with Booth driving off to Hannah while Brennan wished for coffee or drinks or even pie.

Seeing Booth every day, the evidence of everything she'd lost right in front of her, it cut her to the quick every time.

Maybe this would be easier. Brennan would take a dull ache over the fresh wound that constantly being ripped open and picked apart.

"It's going to be boring," she warned Angela eventually.

Angela smiled, eyes shining. "Oh, no, it isn't. You're going to help me with the baby's room. Today," she said dramatically, "We _paint_."

Sighing, Brennan patted her crutches, leaning against the table next to her. "Ange. I don't think I'm going to be much help standing up to paint walls…"

"Oh, I wouldn't let you paint the walls, anyway." Angela said, grimacing slightly. "I love you, Sweetie, but my daughter is _not_ going to sleep surrounded by pictures of skeletons. Hodgins already brought home this stuffed…_bug_ thing he found, so there's already the need for damage control."

Brennan smiled a little in spite of herself. "So what am I allowed to do?"

"You can sit on the floor and paint the crib. Solid color, you should be able to handle it." Angela's teasing grin faded slightly. "If you're feeling okay, I mean."

"I'm fine. Really."

Angela nodded, holding her gaze. "Leg's good?"

"Yes."

"Everything…else?" Angela recognized Brennan's _I don't know what that means_ face before she even said it. "Are _you_ okay?"

"I'm-"

"Fine?" Angela finished with a half-smile. "We can talk some more, if you want, while we're painting-"

But Brennan was already shaking her head. "I really don't want to talk about Booth anymore, Ange. I think…it's better. Getting a break from him."

"Yeah," Angela agreed quietly. "Maybe. I know it hasn't been easy…seeing him with Hannah, being around him-"

Brennan shifted uncomfortably, shrugging it off. "I just need some time to…be like Booth. To make him less important."

Angela didn't miss the implication: that Booth had already made Brennan less important, and like always it broke her heart.

She hadn't missed the effects the past few months had been having on Brennan. It was impossible not to notice the wistful, pained expression on Brennan's face when Booth dropped her off at the lab after a case only to head off to Hannah, or the raw ache evident in her eyes on the rare occasions when he brought Hannah out with the team. It was also hard to ignore Brennan's increasingly frequent late nights at the lab.

But this was the first time Brennan had acknowledged it. And for her, that meant it must be pretty bad.

~(B*B)~

Booth did everything he was supposed for the rest of the day.

He went to work, where he saw Sweets in the hallway. The kid nodded slightly, raising a hand in the barest hint of acknowledgment before quickly turning in the opposite direction, not rushing over to talk or even to offer his psychoanalysis of the scene at the bar last night.

He went home and stayed there. He didn't go to the bar or reach for the Scotch. He had dinner with Hannah. They watched a movie and went to sleep.

Before they drifted off, Hannah curled up against him and told him that he seemed better.

But he wasn't.

The dark, gnawing self-hatred in his gut hadn't gone away. Neither had the constant, distressing mental images he had of Bones (now including her face last night in the bar, battling back tears while she accused him of throwing away the last five years). All night it took every ounce of strength Booth had left from reaching for the bottle to chase those thoughts away.

He had gotten better at repressing his resentment of Hannah, though it meant he had to avoid looking her in the eye. His side of their conversations felt stiff and forced.

But she seemed satisfied, temporarily. She'd left for work when he got up the next morning, and Booth was grateful for the respite of pretending.

That night, however, Hannah met him at the door with a puzzled look on her face. "Seeley? I was sorting through some laundry and found _this_." She uncurled her first, and Booth's heart twisted; Jasper was lying in Hannah's palm.

Booth cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded odd when he answered, "That's Bones'."

Hannah's eyebrows lifted. "What? I was thinking it was, like, Parker's…from four years ago."

Bristling, Booth reached out and pulled the pig figurine away from Hannah with unnecessary force. "No, it's…Jasper. "

Lips curling in amusement, Hannah asked, "The pig has a name?"

Booth had been staring down at Jasper, but at that, he lifted his head to pin Hannah with a glare. "It isn't funny."

Hannah's smile faded slowly as she took in the tightness of Booth's face, the glint in his eyes. "Fine, okay. It's not funny." She paused, uncertainly watching Booth's attention return to the small pig, then ventured slowly, "So why do you have Temperance's…pig toy?"

Irrational anger beginning to choke him, Booth turned his back on Hannah and began pacing needlessly. "I have to give this back to her, I have to go over there…"

"That still doesn't explain why you have it."

Booth ignored her, his purpose suddenly clear. He pulled his coat back on, still gripping Jasper. He was going to Hodgins place.

He had to see Bones. That was all there was to it, when Booth was honest with himself. He had ruined things with her. There was probably no fixing them, no way back.

But for five months he'd stopped noticing her, and Brennan was still the person who kept a tiny pig and smurf on the windowsill in her bedroom, displayed like prize possessions.

What he and Bones had for five years might be lost now, for good, but that didn't mean it never existed. It didn't mean every moment they had stopped mattering.

Hannah would never understand why a tiny toy pig had a name, and why it was important. He didn't want to share that moment with Hannah. The first time Bones saved his life, and the first time she killed someone, wrapped up in one. The way it had seemed so very important to make her smile that he'd gone out searching for the pig…

_What goes on between us should be ours._

No, he wasn't telling Hannah anything about Jasper.

"I'll be back," he remembered to say, already flinging open the door. "I have to go see Bones. She needs this back."

Hannah was staring at him, looking slightly bewildered by what was happening. After a moment, though, she nodded, coming toward him. "Wait just a second and I'll come, too. I want to see how she's doing, anyway-"

"No." It was instinctual, and it was out before Booth could inject anything apologetic into his voice. Hurt registered instantly on his girlfriend's face, and Booth shook his head, impatient. "I need to do this. Please, just…this has to be me."

Something changed in Hannah's face, and her eyes hardened. "Fine. Go."

He went.

Booth was clutching Jasper so hard the tiny, plastic legs dug into the skin on his palm.

There was a spark in his chest, and though it made Booth nervous, it also felt like the first glimmer of genuine hope he'd had in days. Because the pig had renewed something in him, some determination.

The last five years of their partnership _mattered_, damn it. Every moment between them, everything they'd been through together…it still mattered.

He'd ruined the last five months. He'd screwed up, he'd hurt her more than he could stand, and he'd nearly gotten her killed. Booth couldn't forgive that, so he definitely didn't expect her to.

But that didn't discount everything that came before it. Bones had been wrong about one thing…he hadn't thrown away those years. It was impossible. He _couldn't_.

Fifteen minutes later he was standing in front of Hodgins front door. Booth took only a moment to gape at the sheer _size_ of the place before ringing the doorbell.

~(B*B)~

Hodgins, Angela and Brennan were sitting in the living room, watching some special on the Discovery Channel that Jack and Brennan seemed to find fascinating while putting Angela to sleep, when the doorbell rang.

Brennan glanced between the two of them, but neither got up instantly to answer it. Hodgins, though, had his laptop open in front of him, and after a few seconds of clicking, he announced, with an uncertain glance at Brennan, "It's Booth."

"How do you know?"

"He's got the security system connected to his computer," Angela answered offhandedly. She was watching Brennan closely.

Hodgins was, too. "Do I…let him in?"

The doorbell rang again.

Brennan fixed her gaze at her hands, twisting nervously in her lap. This wasn't the plan; she was supposed to be getting distance.

She hadn't expected him to show up.

It rang again.

Glancing up, Brennan met Angela's eyes, giving her best friend a panicking, pleading look.

Angela nodded immediately. "I'll take care of it." She stood up and headed through the hallway to the foyer.

After a moment, Brennan grabbed her crutches and stood to follow her.

~(B*B)~

Booth's thumb was on the doorbell for the fourth time when it swung open and Angela was in front of him, her face impassive.

"Hi," he began, somewhat breathlessly.

"Hey," she replied warily, leaving the door only halfway open.

"So this is the infamous manor?" Booth let out a low whistle. "Which tower is Bones staying in?"

Angela wasn't amused. "What do you want, Booth?"

"I just want to see her," Booth said, his voice suddenly low and serious. "Please, Ange."

"Not a good idea."

Something about this phrasing alarmed him. "Is she okay?"

Angela sighed. "She's trying to be. You have to _let_ her do that, at least."

"But I have to talk to her."

Dark eyes flashing, Angela shot back hotly, "You did enough of that last night, Booth. And a few days ago." He winced at the reminder of that last pre-kidnapping conversation. "Give her a break."

His stomach clenched painfully at this implication that Bones needed a break from him, as though he may be here to once again to say something terrible. Booth pleaded quietly, "I didn't even get to apologize, Angela."

She shook her head. "Yeah, well, you had two chances. And last night you just kind of yelled at her, and from what I hear you barely said anything at the hospital."

"Please," His voice broke, desperation swelling in his chest. "Please, Angela. Do this for me."

"I'm with _her_, Booth. Brennan's my best friend. I'm not letting you hurt her again."

"I'm _not_-"

"Is Hannah waiting for you to get home?" Angela interrupted.

"I – yeah, but-"

"Exactly." Voice softening slightly, Angela said, "She needs time, Booth. It's been hard on her for awhile and this…what happened was just a breaking point."

Desperate, Booth held up the pig. "I have to give her this. I didn't mean to, but I kept it. Bones _has _to…I have to give it back."

"I can give it to her…" Angela suggested, still confused about the significance of the tiny figurine, but reaching for it.

Booth pulled it back, eyes widening like he thought she would steal it. "No, I…I need to. Please. It's really important. I need her to know I think it's important."

Angela locked her eyes on his, and deliberately held out her hand. "I will tell her. I will tell her you never let go of this thing the whole time she was missing, for whatever reason. But you have to leave her alone. For awhile, at least."

Stubbornly, Booth maintained his grip on Jasper. "I won't hurt her again."

"You don't get it," Angela told him softly. "Just you being here…that's hurting her." She raised her hand a little higher. "Come on. You gotta go, Booth."

Booth pressed his trembling lips together and slowly, reluctantly dropped the pig into Angela's outstretched palm. "Please don't do this."

But Angela just pocketed the pig. "Thanks. I'll make sure she gets it. Goodnight, Booth."

He didn't reply, just stood there staring after her with a devastated expression as the door clicked shut in front of him.

~(B*B)~

Closing the door behind her, Angela took a moment to swallow against the lump in her throat. She could see the desperation in Booth's eyes, and she felt horrible for turning him away, but she had to do what was best for Brennan.

When she felt calmer, Angela turned and headed back to the living room. She'd barely gone ten feet, though, when she found Brennan, lingering just around the corner, within earshot.

"Oh, Sweetie…"

There were tears on Brennan's cheeks, and the back of her hand was hovering over her lips, waiting to muffle sobs that hadn't yet begun.

Instantly, uncertainty descended on Angela. "Do you want me to get him back…?"

Brennan shook her head hard, then asked softly, "What did he give you?"

"Bren-"

Her voice catching, Brennan cut Angela. "_What _is it, what did he take?"

Angela reached into her pocket and held out the tiny pig. Brennan's face crumpled, and her hands shook slightly as she reached for it. Angela told her quietly, "He had it in your room, after we found out you were missing. And I guess he took it with him, because he had it later in the lab. He was staring at that thing like it was going to save you…"

"He gave it to me," Brennan said, her voice barely a breath. "After Epps…"

Angela nodded, then before she could stop herself, asked the obvious question, "Why?"

But Brennan just shook her head. For some reason, she didn't want to explain it all to Angela. That moment was hers, only with Booth, and she wanted it to stay that way.

Hodgins suddenly appeared in the doorway, his expression wary. "Everybody okay, out here?"

Nodding, Brennan swiped a sleeve quickly across her eyes before tightening her grip on her crutches. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Okay…night, Sweetie." But Brennan was already hobbling away, and Angela sadly watched her go.

~(B*B)~

Booth was still shaking when he got back to his apartment. He was in the kitchen and unsteadily pouring himself a drink when Hannah emerged from the bedroom, her hair wet from a shower.

"Seeley, come _on_…"

"I'm not asking you to stay up, you can go to bed," he forced out through gritted teeth, tipping the contents of the glass down his throat.

"I thought you said you were stopping this."

"I'm a grown man, Hannah," he muttered, pouring a refill. His hands were shaking so badly he sloshed half a glass onto the counter before correcting his aim.

Hannah crossed the room and wrapped a hand around the bottle. "What happened?"

"Angela, she wouldn't let me see her."

"Why?"

Booth just shook his head irritably. He couldn't explain, not without going into what happened at the bar the other night, or what he'd said to Bones when Hannah was missing, or even explaining the truth about what they used to be, the bond Hannah had never seen…

He reached for the bottle, his glass empty again, but Hannah pulled it away.

"_Hannah_."

"You'll see her eventually," Hannah said firmly, blatantly ignoring his protest. "Why is it so important to go tonight?" When he didn't answer, she forced herself to soften her tone, "Do you want to explain about the pig thing?"

"No."

She stared up at him, but Booth never turned to look at her. "Do you want to tell me why you're so upset?"

"I _did_ tell you," he snapped, voice cracking. "I needed to see Bones tonight, I've barely seen her…"

"They probably just wanted her to get some rest," Hannah said, her tone coming out more impatient than her intended soothing. "You'll see her soon. Try again tomorrow."

Booth nodded. "Sure. Tomorrow."

~(B*B)~

Over the next week and a half, Booth went back to Angela and Hodgins' place three times, and no one answered the door.

He went drinking after he left the house, and on the nights he didn't try Booth drove straight to the bar. Not the Founding Fathers…he wasn't risking running into Cam or Sweets or even Bones again in that state. He found a small hole in the wall place that they wouldn't think of visiting.

Once there, Booth drank until he stopped missing her. He drank until he stopped hoping for another chance and hating himself for blowing the last few. He drank until he stopped remembering.

Then he'd take a cab home and crawl into bed next to Hannah, though by that point his mind was foggy enough to pretend he was alone.

Then one afternoon he came home to find Hannah sitting in the living room, her small pile of suitcases in front of her.

He froze in the doorway, keys still in his hand. "What are you doing?"

Hannah looked up at him, her expression stoic. "I'm going."

"You can't," he blurted out stupidly.

"I'm not that person, Seeley," Hannah said in a low voice. "I'm not the girl who sees the truth before you do and then steps gracefully aside. That girl goes from being hated to being pitied and I'm _not _her." She stared fixedly at a spot on the wall for a long moment, eyes wide, before continuing tightly, "But I'm also not the girl who sits around, perfectly oblivious, or, or pretending everything's okay."

Booth blinked at her. "I don't know what you're saying."

Hannah laughed in a way that suggested nothing would ever be funny again. "Do you know you yell her name in your sleep? No matter how _wasted_ you are when you get home, no matter what ungodly hour it is…you always do it. I wake up and you're shaking and screaming her name." She was standing, then, grabbing her bags.

"When I first got to the basement we couldn't find Bones, and I was yelling for her and I thought she was dead," Booth told in a rush, a strange sort of panic gripping him and making it hard to think straight.

"You are _miserable_, Seeley. I don't make you happy. Me being here, being alive…it's like it doesn't matter." She met his eyes, tears welling in hers finally. "You need _her_."

Booth could only stare. He wouldn't deny needing Bones, never again. But his heart was hammering in his chest and he heard himself say, "Don't go. Please."

She walked to the door, balancing all the bags she hadn't already packed in the car. She paused in the doorway, then turned, tears falling at last. "You know, I knew she loved you the minute she explained what she'd done down there. I even… I even thought she might love you more than I did. It never occurred to me to do that for you. But that's…that's because I didn't doubt you. Not for one second, You said you loved me and I believed you…until I got back and suddenly you didn't."

Booth felt lightheaded, disconnected from the scene in front of him. "Don't go," he said again, weakly, almost dazed. "You're all I have left."

A crooked sob escaped Hannah's throat and she shook her head. "That's not enough reason to stay."

The door clicked behind her, and she was gone.

~(B*B)~

Brennan's fingertips were sticky with butter. Angela didn't seem to have that problem, as she was licking her fingers every few seconds before delving her hand back into their shared bowl of popcorn.

Quelling the instinctual lecture against the transference of bacteria, Brennan stuck carefully to her own side of the bowl.

Angela had chosen the movie tonight, and Brennan wasn't finding it very stimulating. Something about a girl who had a lot of bridesmaids dresses.

She was enjoying staying at Angela's, though. As much as Brennan hated the limitations in her mobility and the way it necessitated asking for help in usually simple tasks, she enjoyed the company more.

Brennan had never really noticed how many of her evenings were filled spending time with Booth…not until it was gone. Ever since he started dating Hannah…well, the past few months had seemed unusually lonely.

The doorbell rang. Angela and Brennan both looked at each other, uncertain.

"Much later than his usual visits," Angela commented lightly, but as always she could see the conflict on Brennan's face.

The doorbell rang again. And then several more times, in rapid succession.

"More persistent, too…" Angela held Brennan's gaze. "What do you want to do?"

Before she could answer, Hodgins walked by them, amid a chorus of ringing.

"I got this," he said, tone strangely grim. "Just stay in here."

~(B*B)~

Booth pressed his finger on the doorbell and pressed it again, over and over. He'd given up too easy the last two times…only rang it twice before going away. No wonder they'd been able to ignore him.

"Bones!" He yelled at the closed door. "Bones, let me in!"

He knocked the hand clutching his beer against the door, still ringing the doorbell with the other hand. He'd come from the bar. It had occurred to him, sitting there, that Angela had asked him, the first night he'd tried to see Bones, if Hannah was waiting for him at home.

And now she wasn't. So that meant they might let him in.

Suddenly the door opened and Hodgins was standing there, his face uncharacteristically hard. "You have any idea what time it is?"

Booth craned his neck, trying to see past Hodgins into the house. "Are they asleep?"

"No, but that's not the point," Hodgins' eyes flickered to the beer bottle in Booth's hand. "You drunk, Booth?"

"I need to see Bones."

"Not like this you don't," Hodgins said firmly.

Booth pointed an accusing finger at the younger man. "You can't do that. You have to let Bones decide if she wants to talk to me, you have to give her a choice."

"My house, my call," Hodgins said bluntly. "You don't get to see her when you're like this."

"Apparently I don't get to see her any other night, either…" Booth retorted, flattening his palm against the door and trying to open it the rest of the way.

Hodgins' eyes widened slightly, and he put out a hand to stop Booth. "You _aren't_ coming in here."

Angela's voice floated from the hallway. "Everything okay, Jack?"

"Yeah, you guys stay back there," Hodgins replied, not taking his eyes off Booth.

Freezing, staring at the expression on Hodgins' face, Booth took a few steps back. Shame penetrated the fog of alcohol and Booth felt himself shudder. "You…you think I'm going to hurt someone?"

Hodgins sighed. "No, man, of course not. I just…I saw what happened last time you tried to talk to Brennan when you were drinking."

Booth hung his head, suddenly just sober enough to be thoroughly sick of himself.

Lowering his voice, Hodgins told him, "You don't want to do this now. Not like this."

"Right," Booth muttered, nodding dully.

"Do you need a ride?"

"My cab…I think my cab's waiting." Booth swiveled around. He could just see the headlights back on the street.

"Good." Warily, looking as though he expected protest, Hodgins started to close the door. "Night, Booth."

~(B*B)~

Hodgins returned to the living room, still slightly on edge by the encounter. It was unsettling seeing Booth so unraveled.

The DVD was paused on the flat screen, and both women were watching him expectantly.

"Jack?" Angela prompted tentatively.

"He'd been drinking a little," Hodgins said calmly, keeping his eyes locked on Angela's. He was having a hard time looking at Brennan for some reason.

"Is he okay?" Brennan asked him quietly.

"I, uh…I don't know. I think so just…had a little too much."

"He wasn't driving, was he?" The pitch of her voice was edging higher.

"No," Hodgins reassured her quickly, "He had a cab."

Brennan nodded, though she still looked distressed. Hodgins and Angela exchanged glances, and he announced in as casually as he could manage, "I'll let you guys finish this…cinematic gem."

He left the room, but Angela didn't play the movie again yet. She reached out and squeezed Brennan's shoulder gently. "You okay?"

"Booth doesn't usually drink that much," Brennan stated. "Probably because of his genetic predisposition to alcoholism, but…he never gets drunk."

"You're worried about him?"

Catching her lower lip between her teeth, Brennan nodded. After a moment, she said, "It's just…he was at least somewhat inebriated when we saw him at the bar. And now this…"

Angela could see the genuine fear on Brennan's face, and she hesitantly suggested, "Well…we could drive over there, Bren. Make sure he's okay."

She was silent for a moment, considering it, but then shook her head. "No, I…I don't want to go over there. And…he's got Hannah. She'll make sure, right?"

~(B*B)~

The next morning was one of those times Booth wished he'd been able to black out. The events of the previous night, Hannah leaving, his immediate departure to the bar, getting fixated on the idea that _now_ would be a good time to try to see Bones again, showing up drunk at Hodgins…none of them were anything he wanted to remember.

The shame was enough to keep him away from the bottle for a few days, though it didn't last long.

It was strange, working for those few weeks. Being in the field without Bones was unsettling. He felt off balance, and it only made him miss her more. It also made it so even work wasn't a distraction for Booth; her absence was so glaring it worked as a constant reminder of why she wasn't there.

So the drinking continued.

He had contact with Cam a few times, only for work. She called in their findings and apologized for turning down a lunch invitation, reminding him that she had much more work than usual with both Brennan and Angela gone.

But Booth didn't miss the slight disappointment that tinged Cam's voice when she talked to him, and he didn't ask her again.

He saw Sweets a couple times at work, but the kid always seemed in a hurry to end the conversation. He did ask, once, how Hannah was doing since the kidnapping, and Booth had been in such desperate need for conversation that he admitted that Hannah had left him.

But instead of his usual psychoanalysis, an offer to talk, or anything else Booth was expecting, Sweets stumbled through an apology before claiming he had a patient waiting and running off.

~(B*B)~

One day, a week and a half after Hannah left, Booth walked from the Hoover to the diner over his lunch break. He'd called in an order, as it had become his habit to just eat alone in his office, unless he was on his way to question someone, in which case he just ate in his car.

Booth froze though, halfway across the street from his car, staring, transfixed through the window.

The team was squeezed into a booth by the window. All of them.

Minus him.

Sweets was there, too, and Booth had seen him in passing at the Hoover that morning. So they'd clearly called specifically to invite him.

Just not Booth. Because, as Angela had told him, he was supposed to be staying away from Bones. So he didn't do any more damage.

Hodgins refused to let him enter his house. Angela saw him as the enemy, someone who couldn't stop hurting her best friend. Camille refused his lunch invitations. Sweets avoided his gaze in the hallway at work.

And Bones…Bones had clearly had all the destruction she could take from him.

Booth turned around without picking up his order, feeling very, very alone.

_Ooh. The angst, right? Pour your hearts out in the box, guys. Love hearing from you, the more you write the better (but I love each every review, of course). You're amazing, and you make fanfic such an awesome experience._

_And like I said. The next chapter's a big one, and it's pretty much done. Should post Saturday. Just leave the reviews! Thanks for reading, as always! _


	10. I Shall Believe

**A/N: **_Okay, so I totally missed my Saturday night deadline. By several hours. But in my defense, that's because I thought this chapter was going to be really, really short. And it turned out to be fairly long. So maybe that's worth the extra few hours._

_Anyway, as I hinted, this is a big chapter. So I hope you enjoy, and I hope you keep being awesome and letting me know what you think. Song for this one is "I Shall Believe" by Sheryl Crow, and it's beautiful and perfect and you should all listen to it._

Chapter Nine

_I Shall Believe_

_Come to me now  
And lay your hands over me  
Even if it's a lie  
Say it will be alright  
And I shall believe  
I'm broken in two  
And I know you're on to me  
That I only come home  
When I'm so all alone  
But I do believe  
_

_That not everything is gonna be the way  
You think it ought to be  
It seems like every time I try to make it right  
It all comes down on me  
Please say honestly you won't give up on me  
And I shall believe  
And I shall believe_

It took Booth three days after the incident at the diner, a full two weeks since he'd shown up, drunk, at Hodgins' place, before he worked up enough courage to show his face again.

It was earlier than usual, just 6:30, when he rang the doorbell, only once this time.

He'd showered after work, for no real reason, and took his time selecting an outfit. Now, standing on the front porch with bags of takeout food, he felt like a nervous kid on his first date.

Except for the fact that there was a very real chance he'd be turned away.

~(B*B)~

"Dr. B?" Hodgins knocked on the closed guest room door with the hand that wasn't curled around his laptop. After a moment, he heard the tapping of Brennan's crutches on the hardwood floor, and then the door opened and Brennan was looking at him expectantly.

Hodgins grinned at her. "You look great."

They were getting ready to go out to dinner, along with Cam and Sweets, to celebrate Brennan's first day back at the lab the next day.

Making it a fancy meal out had been Angela's idea, and for all her insistences that it was a worthy occasion, Brennan was pretty sure it was because of the fact that Angela had actually managed to find a formal maternity dress last week when they were supposed to be shopping for baby clothes.

"Thanks. So do you," Brennan said, smiling back.

"The crutches go great with that dress." Hodgins teased.

Brennan laughed a little, then looked at him and his awkwardly balanced laptop curiously. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." Hodgins turned the screen so she could see the security camera. Just as he did so, the doorbell rang again. "Booth's here. I didn't know what you wanted me to tell him. Y'know, about where we're going…"

Brennan peered at the screen, her heart catching. Booth was holding bags in either hand, and she was pretty sure they contained takeout.

"I'll talk to him," she muttered before really thinking it through.

Hodgins looked surprised, but he just nodded. "Sure."

Brennan tightened her grip on her crutches and moved toward the front door. A knot of dread was tightening in her stomach, but she was also the tiniest bit relieved. She'd been worried about Booth for the past two weeks.

And though Brennan had been hoping the feeling would go away, she still missed him just as much.

~(B*B)~

Booth was starting to think they'd gone back to the method of simply ignoring him when the door opened.

Even more of a surprise, though, was who was standing behind it.

"Wow," he breathed.

Brennan glanced down at her outfit, flushing slightly. She was wearing a black dress that Angela said was 'so-ridiculously-hot -I'm-getting-unbelievably-jealous-staring-at-you-in-it'.

After a moment, Booth flushed, too, realizing he'd been staring, completely distracted from his purpose. "I mean, hi."

"Hey," Brennan said softly.

He lifted the bags awkwardly. "I, um…brought Thai food. But, uh, seems like you clearly have other plans." Booth attempted a smile, but it went limp as soon as a horrifying thought struck him. Did Bones have a date?

Though he had no right to care, this thought made his stomach churn. "Where, um…where _are_ you going?" He asked, trying to make the question conversational rather than desperate.

Brennan couldn't look at him. "I go back to the lab tomorrow, to work, and….Angela thought it'd be fun to go out and celebrate. "

"Right." Booth nodded, feeling the same sting he'd experienced outside the diner. "Cam and Sweets and everyone coming?" Her face gave him the answer. "Got it."

The hurt, resigned look on his face made Brennan feel as though her heart was swelling painfully in her chest. "Do you…do you want to come?"

Booth laughed, a harsh sound he didn't recognize. "Nothing like a last minute pity invite, is there, Bones?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Booth regretted the anger and bitterness there. But he felt so stupid, standing there freshly showered and changed, with enough food for four hungry people…thinking he was actually wanted.

Brennan's face twisted, guilt swirling in her eyes. "I…I'm sorry-"

"No, no, it's fine," Booth muttered, his hands tightening around the plastic bags. "I mean it's my own fault right…should've taken the hint."

"I…I don't know what that means," Brennan stammered, suddenly finding it painful to hold Booth's eyes."

"I stopped by a few times," he said in a low voice. "Wanted to see you."

"Yes, I know."

"Right." Booth waited until Brennan chanced a glance up so he could meet her eyes. "I was hoping maybe…they hadn't told you."

The hurt threaded through Booth's tone was so palpable it made Brennan's chest ache. Painstakingly, she held his gaze and, as always, Brennan could only be honest with him. "I…I just needed a break. After everything."

"Right." Booth was backing away, looking embarrassed and more than a little lost. "I mean it's all my fault, right? What happened to you." He shook his head, muttering, "Why would you want to see me?"

"I never said it was your fault," Brennan tried helplessly. After a pause, she added, "You…you should come tonight. Really."

He shook his head again, starting down the stairs of the porch. "You aren't the only one who doesn't want to be an obligation, Bones," Booth said in a low voice, his eyes glinting. "So I won't intrude."

Feeling hot tears pooling in her eyes, Brennan shut them quickly. "The Thai food was sweet," she forced out. "At least…you and Hannah can still eat it."

Booth swallowed against a fist sized lump in his throat. "Right." He turned to go. "You look really beautiful, Bones. Enjoy your night."

Then Booth was walking down the path, his back to Bones.

Maybe staying away was the one thing he could do for her now.

~(B*B)~

Angela and Hodgins came out of the door a few minutes later, ready to leave, to find Brennan sitting on the porch swing alone, her arms wrapped around herself, fighting tears.

They exchanged a glance, and then Angela gingerly sat down beside her.

"Sweetie, what happened?"

"I, uh…" Brennan paused, setting her jaw and making a valiant effort to control her voice. "I don't know that I feel like going out."

"_Bren_," Angela said, sounding devastated. "Come on, it's going to be so much fun. It'll take your mind off of…things."

"You guys can still go."

"You're the guest of honor!" Angela protested.

After a moment of no response, Angela touched Brennan's arm and said, "Bren, please look at me." Slowly, Brennan complied. "I hate seeing you so sad, Sweetie. And if you want to stay here, I'll stay with you. We can talk, or whatever you need. But if not, I think it'd be really good for you to come out with your friends." She gave her a sad smile. "It's up to you, though."

Brennan nodded slowly, her eyes locked on Angela's. Drawing a steadying breath, finally, she agreed, "Okay. Let's go to dinner."

~(B*B)~

Though Angela considered getting Brennan to the restaurant a victory in itself, the battle was far from over.

Although she and Hodgins made valiant efforts at conversation in the car, Brennan was quiet and withdrawn in the backseat. For most of the ride, she barely seemed aware of their presence, much less their conversation.

"You okay?" Angela murmured inside the restaurant as Hodgins gave their name to the host.

"I think we should've invited Booth." Brennan admitted softly.

Angela sighed, as Hodgins signaled them to follow the host to their table. Staying in step with Brennan's awkward maneuvering with her crutches, Angela asked, "I thought you wanted a break from him? Get some distance?"

"I did," Brennan frowned, then amended, "I do. I'm just…feeling guilty." She paused, grimacing. "I think I really hurt his feelings."

"Well…sometimes that happens," Angela stated neutrally, sitting taking a seat between Brennan and Hodgins. Privately, she thought that Booth getting _his_ feelings hurt for once wasn't the worse thing in the world.

"I don't want him to think…it isn't because I blame him for what happened. But that seems to be his conclusion," Brennan said, her voice tinged with sadness.

"Well…" Angela paused, unsure of what to say. "Maybe we could all go to lunch again this week, and you can invite him to that."

"Maybe," Brennan echoed dully.

"And, hey, don't worry too much about him tonight, okay, Sweetie? He's got Hannah."

There was the barest note of derision in Angela's tone, but Brennan ignored it and merely nodded. "That's true."

Still, when Cam showed up a few minutes later and brightly greeted everyone, she took one look at Brennan's face and gave the other two a questioning look. Angela just shook her head.

Sweets did the same double take when arrived just after Cam, but he was lacking in subtlety. "Everything alright, Dr. Brennan?"

"Fine," she answered tersely.

He didn't push it.

For the next half hour, steady conversation swirled around the table…between four of the five occupants. Brennan was mostly silent, lost in thought. The most stilted moments of the conversation came when someone (usually Angela) made a pointed effort to include Brennan in the discussion.

Brennan had been genuinely excited for the evening, partially because of what it represented – she was anxious to get back to the lab – but also because it had sounded like it could be fun.

Now, though, Brennan couldn't enjoy it. She felt horribly mean, and suddenly it didn't feel right without Booth.

She hadn't been oblivious to the gaping hole of his absence the few times she and Angela had driven to meet the others for lunch over the past few weeks. Though it had been odd and a little off-putting, Brennan had never felt _guilty_ over it.

For months Booth had been meeting Hannah for lunches whenever he could. So she hadn't thought he would care much, even if he had known the team was convening without him.

But his face tonight…he'd definitely been hurt. And in spite of everything that had changed between them over the past five months, there had never been a moment when Brennan wanted to hurt Booth.

Their entrees had just arrived when Angela decided to try some subtle encouragement to bring Brennan out of her guilty state of silence.

Angela addressed the group but kept her eyes on Brennan. "So, Bren and I were thinking we should all go get lunch again one day this week, even though we'll be back to work now….Booth, too."

The others threw surprised glances at Angela and then Brennan, who still didn't seem to be listening very closely. Luckily, though, they refrained from commenting on the anomaly.

"Sounds good," Cam commented smoothly.

"We should really just make that a regular thing," Hodgins put in.

"Booth would probably enjoy that now that he's no longer with Hannah," Sweets added casually.

With that simple comment, it was though the air had been sucked out of the room. Silence fell instantly, and every head swiveled to look at Sweets.

Including Brennan, who seemed to be paying attention for the first time all evening.

"_What_?" Angela said finally, cutting through the shocked silence.

"They broke up?"

Sweets had physically slid his chair back from the table. His eyes were darting around to every face, a look of panic descending over his features. "I…you guys knew that. Right?"

"Oh, yeah," Hodgins said dryly. "Our faces clearly indicate that this was prior knowledge."

"No, but…there's no way he only told me." Sweets paused, his gaze settling on Brennan, who still hadn't said a word. "Right?"

"What happened?"

"When was this?"

"I…" Sweets looked decidedly uncomfortable now. "He, he just said that she left him. He told me last week, and made it sound like it had been a few weeks. I…I don't know."

Cam looked ready to launch into a tirade of questions, but Angela cast a sidelong glance at Brennan, who had gone rigid and pale in her seat, and was staring very, very fixedly at a spot on the wall.

A subject change was definitely in order.

~(B*B)~

Brennan waited exactly two and a half minutes after the subject of Booth had been dropped before calmly, deliberately standing up, grabbing her crutches and excusing herself.

She hoped that would be enough time to eliminate any automatic correlation between her departure and the news that Hannah had left Booth. Weeks ago.

But she couldn't fool Angela, apparently, because Brennan had barely stepped outside, sucking the cool, night air into her lungs, when her best friend emerged behind her.

"Bren…"

"I'm fine, Ange, just…just go back inside."

"I know what you're thinking, Sweetie."

Brennan's throat was tight, and it hurt to talk, but she managed to force out, "What makes you say that?"

"Because I do." She could tell from Angela's voice that she was moving closer, though Brennan kept her back to her friend. "You're thinking that the only reason Booth started coming around wanting to see you was because he and Hannah broke up. And you're thinking that since _Hannah_ left _him_…you're just a second choice."

Angela had so accurately surmised Brennan's thoughts that she abruptly found herself precariously close to tears.

After a moment of silence, Angela added gently, "Sweetie, look at me." When Brennan didn't turn, Angela simply walked in front of her, taking advantage of her current impaired mobility. "If that _is_ what you're thinking, you're wrong."

Her voice tight, Brennan countered, "Look at the facts, Angela. Booth meeting Hannah was quite obviously the catalyst for his…increased distance from me. And now his attempts at reconciliation correlate directly with _her_ choosing to terminate their relationship." Brennan's voice wavered, "That isn't a coincidence, Ange."

Angela shook her head a little, her tone rich with warm sympathy, "Sweetie, I think it's more likely that Booth's…attempt at reconciliation correlate with what almost happened to you." She paused, then added, "Maybe even his breakup with Hannah correlated with that, too."

Brennan was silent for a beat, then she muttered softly, "Occam's Razor."

"Sorry?"

"Occam's Razor. It's the theory that the simplest explanation is usually correct."

Angela sighed. "What's the simplest explanation?"

Brennan's jaw tightened. "The simplest theory is that Booth met Hannah and he no longer needed me. When Hannah left, he was no longer spending time with her…therefore, he once again desired my company." Brennan shook her head, her eyes blazing. "I am Booth's second choice in this scenario, Ange." Tucking her crutches under her arms, Brennan headed back into the restaurant. "There's no need for that lunch we talked about."

Wincing, Angela followed her best friend inside. Just over a month ago, she would have thought the news of Booth and Hannah breaking up would be an incredible relief for Brennan.

Now it had just turned into one more hurtful moment.

~(B*B)~

Two days later, a Friday, Booth sat in his living room, a bottle of Scotch in front of him, his usual fog settling over him.

There was a knock on the door, loud and persistent, and Booth was startled. That someone would be visiting felt like a foreign concept.

He stood up and moved unsteadily to the door.

"Dad!" The whirlwind that was Parker on a weekend slammed against him, his usual overnight bag slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, bub," Booth managed, blinking in confusion at Rebecca. If this had been an arrangement, he'd completely forgotten.

Rebecca seemed to notice his confusion, and she tilted her head at him, an odd expression on her face. "Did you forget?"

"I, uh…" Panic was starting to descend over Booth, and he desperately tried to will himself into instant sobriety, all too aware of Parker's curious gaze.

Suddenly, the confusion on Rebecca's face faded into shock, and then anger. He watched her take in his blood shot eyes, the smell of Scotch on his breath; he saw her eyes sweep the apartment, noting the empty liquor bottles covering every available surface.

Her eyes flashed, and she hissed, "My _God_, Seeley…"

"Wow, Dad, your place is messy," Parker commented. "Why do you have so many bottles?"

"Uh, listen, Bec, I can expla-"

"You're s'posed to recycle, ya know," Parker told him, oblivious to the tension crackling between his parents.

"Parker," Rebecca raised her voice to address her son, though she never took her furious, disgusted gaze off of Booth. "Go wait in the car."

Parker whirled, anger tightening on his small face. "_W_hat_? _I'm supposed to stay with Dad all weekend."

"Parker, _now_."

Seizing his father's arm, Parker made a final plea, "Dad, tell her. Tell her I'm s'posed to stay, _please_." Then, accusing and angry, he told his mother, "You _promised_. Dad, tell her!"

"Parker, listen to your mom. I…" He swallowed. It was difficult to keep his words steady. "I'll see you soon. I promise."

Narrowing his eyes, Parker scowled at both of them. "_Fine_!'

Then he went, stalking loudly down the hall to where Brent was waiting in the car.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Rebecca swiped her palm across Booth's face.

"Ow!"

"What the _hell_, Seeley? Are you _drunk_?"

"N-no." Real fear was pounding in Booth's chest now. "I, I'm sorry, I just…I forgot-"

"Just like you forgot his soccer game last Tuesday? Or Parent's Night the week before that?"

Booth's stomach pitched forward, and he had to reach out and cling to the counter to keep himself steady. "I…I didn't know."

"I left messages," Rebecca snarled, storming into the apartment and advancing on him. "And I made excuses for you. Parker's been looking forward to this all week, and now you make _me_ look like the bad guy, you _ass_-"

Self-revulsion coiled around Booth's stomach. Suddenly, his son, who loved him and trusted him unconditionally, was just another person Booth had failed.

"I'm sorry," He managed, voice shaking. "I'm so sorry, I just…I'll take him next weekend. Or any part of this week, if you need-"

"Oh, no you won't," Rebecca snapped poisonously, her eyes doing another sweep of the room. "Doesn't look like you're fit to take care of anyone but yourself, I'm sure as hell not leaving our son with you…"

"You can't do that-"

"I can," she retorted, a note of finality in her voice. "Get it together, Seeley. Take a break, and pull yourself together. I would have no trouble right now convincing a court to make this a permanent arrangement, so just be grateful I'm not doing that."

The door slammed behind her, and for several long moments Booth stood stock still in the middle of his apartment, nauseous with shame and anger and self-loathing.

Then, a scream clawed its way free of his throat, and it echoed through the walls of the apartment and he aimed a wild, violent kick at the nearest object (his kitchen chair, which flipped and toppled to the ground).

~(B*B)~

"Sweetie! Bren, Sweetie, wake up! _Brennan_!"

Brennan's eyes flew open, and she slowly stopped thrashing.

She was lying in the bedroom at Angela's house (she still had a few more weeks to go before she could lose the crutches and drive herself to work), sheets tangled around her legs, a cold sweat making them stick to her skin.

Angela was standing over her, dark eyes wide and frightened. "You were screaming, Bren," she told her softly.

Raking trembling hands through her hair, Brennan slowly sat up, shivering violently. "It's nothing," Brennan rasped. "I…sorry I woke you."

Angela reached out and grabbed Brennan's shaking hand, squeezing firmly. "What were you dreaming about?" Angela's voice was sympathetic, but it was also small and frightened, as though she knew she may not want to hear the answer.

Brennan just shook her head. Angela didn't need to hear about this nightmare, the one Brennan had since she was sixteen.

The one where hands, dozens of them, big and strong and rough, were holding her down, touching her, ripping her apart. There was always one covering her mouth, preventing her even the luxury of a scream.

This particular nightmare, though its frequency had lessened during her college years, had never gone away for good, though typically it only occurred a few times a year. Since those nights in the hospital, though, it had been plaguing her at least every other night.

Angela was absently rubbing circles on Brennan's back. "Is there anything I can do, Sweetie?" she whispered. "Anything you need?"

Brennan's chest constricted, because, much as she hated it, the first thought in her head was that she needed Booth.

Those nights in the hospital, when nightmares had been waking her up every hour or so, the only moment Brennan had felt truly at ease, truly _safe_, was the period when Booth had been there, silently holding vigil by her bedside.

It hadn't lasted of course, but mere proximity had calmed her. But that wasn't an option.

"No. There's nothing," she answered at last.

~(B*B)~

Booth had spent the rest of the weekend drinking in his apartment. It was a vicious cycle…the drinking had driven yet another person away, and it had only strengthened the need for that fog.

He missed a few calls from Cam, which was a surprise, but he never answered them, sure she'd be able to tell instantly what state he was in. That would only make her more disappointed.

It took monumental effort to drag himself into work Monday morning, but Booth managed it. He was thankful there was no active case, and he could just spend the day in his office, doing paperwork.

Sometime in the early afternoon, Booth went out of his office to the file cabinets that held very recent, closed case files, wanting to check a detail of something.

Thumbing through the folders, however, he came across the one on Brennan and Hannah's kidnapping, as it had taken place in the same week as what he was looking for.

Booth froze, his fingers gripping the manila folder, his original objective completely forgotten.

It wasn't exactly wrong. There was no rule you could only view your own case files; they often had to pull other agent's files, in fact, for research purposes.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Booth was extracting the folder and retreating back to his office.

He told himself he was only going to glance over it, make sure everything was thorough...but as soon as he opened the first, summary page that listed the various crimes committed, Booth was lost.

There were the expected words, _kidnapping _and _attempted murder_, but two other words jumped out at Booth.

_Sexual assault._

Booth's stomach rolled, the bitter, acidic taste of bile rising in his throat, choking him. The room tilted, the air in his lungs dissolving.

Shaking hands turned the pages of the file, and then Booth was pouring over Bones' statement.

~(B*B)~

An hour later, he went barreling into Hacker's office. "I need to go home."

Hacker gave Booth an alarmed look, taking in the agent's appearance. Booth's face was ashen, his whole body shaking violently.

"Yeah, I can see that," Hacker said dryly, arching an eyebrow. "It's an hour early, Booth, go on home. You look like hell. Take the rest of the week, if you need."

Booth turned on his heel and stumbled out.

He'd read Bones' statement. And now he knew all of it, every detail. He knew how hard she'd fought him, and how often. He knew what she'd said to convince him to take Hannah back.

He knew how she'd saved herself…what she'd had to let him do so she could get away.

Booth's first instinct was blind rage directed at Greg Thomas, the kind of blind rage that made him want to kill.

But the man was already dead, and it left Booth with no real target for his rage.

No target besides himself. And, it seemed, turning that much fury inward was dangerous.

~(B*B)~

Booth entered his apartment and slammed his door, a satisfying thud filling the apartment.

He'd been to the bar, straight from work, not caring that it was barely five. He'd sat there for hours, but for once his routine hadn't worked.

He couldn't forget what he'd read.

Bones' words, transcribed so formally in that file, consumed him, echoing through his mind as though he'd heard her speak. Images he didn't want formed in Booth's mind, dirty and violent and sickening.

He'd caused that.

Booth felt like his insides were ripping apart, tearing through him in staggering waves of anger.

All he could do was let them come.

Booth seized an empty bottle of Scotch and slammed it against the wall, shattering it. Bits of glass fell the floor, and Booth was holding the jagged mouth of the bottle. He slammed it again, much close for the small piece, then slung it away, turning his attention to a cluster of empty beer bottles.

He broke every bottle, crushing each one as much as possible before moving onto another.

He threw bottles across the room, he slammed them on nearby walls, he crushed them beneath his feet. The floor of his apartment glittered with shards of glass, all sharp edges and distorted reflections.

When he ran out of empty bottles, Booth set about creating more.

Booth finished a half empty six pack and tried breaking the bottle against his thigh, leaving miniscule bits of glass clinging to his pants. Then, he opened another one and started on that.

He drank everything he had in his kitchen, not bothering with glasses, just swigging straight from a bottle of Scotch, or Vodka, anything he had...and Booth had taken care lately to keep his kitchen stocked.

Booth drank until the room began to tilt and spin, until the glittering floor began to resemble some sort of ornate design. Diamonds, maybe.

He drank until there was nothing left, and then Booth set out to find more.

He stepped out of the kitchen and nearly ran into his table. Booth pulled up short, overcorrecting, and fell hard to his knees.

Stretching out his palms to catch himself, Booth found himself kneeling in a pile of broken glass. His palms were covered in thin, red threads of blood, but Booth didn't feel the sting.

With difficulty, he pulled himself to his feet, one thought managing to come together in Booth's inebriated mind. He had to get to a liquor store. He needed more bottles.

Booth made it to the parking lot and halfway to his car when the world turned on him. Booth felt himself spinning, and he made a grab for anything to hold on to and came up empty handed.

Then, the world went black.

~(B*B)~

Brennan was lying on her bed, papers spread out over the bedspread. She was half asleep but valiantly trying to fight it. It was early yet, and she'd brought home a good amount of lab work, trying to make up for the weeks she'd been gone.

But physical therapy always tired her out, and Angela was always lecturing that she shouldn't fight it.

So she was lying there, contemplating calling it a night, when her phone rang.

"Brennan," she answered in a clipped tone.

"Dr. Brennan? This is Amy Clifford, at Georg Washington Hospital. We have you listed as the emergency contact for Seeley Booth?"

Brennan's heart went limp, terror gripping her. "Wha-…What happened, is he…he's okay, right?"

"He's just been brought into our ER."

It felt like her lungs were shrinking, and it was suddenly impossible to get enough air. "Why, what happened? What's wrong?" Brennan didn't recognize her voice, the scared, frightened child speaking her words.

"I'm sorry, I don't have any more information at this time."

"I'll be right there," that fragile voice said again, going against Brennan's instinct to demand explanations and answers.

She sat for a moment, fighting nausea, before some sort of adrenaline kicked in and Brennan made a grab for her crutches, yelling in a strangled voice, "Angela! _Ange_!"

The door to Brennan's room flew open, and Hodgins and Angela appeared there at the same time, the terror in Brennan's voice palpable.

"What happened?"

"What's wrong?"

"Booth's in the hospital." Brennan could barely hold her crutches steady, she was shaking so hard. "They won't tell me why, but I…I have to go. Now, I have to go right now…"

Hodgins and Angela looked at each other, their eyes identical pools of horror. "Of course, Sweetie."

"I'll drive."

~(B*B)~

.35

That was Booth's blood alcohol level when he'd been brought in.

People died from that.

Booth _would_ have died from that if one of the other tenants in his building hadn't been coming home and found Booth unconscious on the asphalt of the parking lot.

They'd pumped his stomach. They were administering fluid and oxygen periodically. He was in and out of conscious, they said, but they hadn't let Brennan see him yet.

She sat in the waiting room between Hodgins and Angela, her arms wrapped tight around her midriff, trying to control her shaking.

All Brennan could think was that this was all her fault.

She'd known there was a problem. She'd known _weeks_ ago, when he'd showed up drunk at Hodgins and Angela's house, that this wasn't normal behavior for Booth.

But she'd done nothing. She'd assumed, at the time, that Hannah would check on him, that she would be there to notice a problem.

Yet even when Brennan had found out that Hannah wasn't there, hadn't been for awhile even, she had done nothing. She hadn't called. Hadn't tried to check on him. Hadn't asked anyone else to.

All because she needed distance, or because she felt rejected or unwanted.

An involuntary sound escaped her throat, something between a gasp and a sob.

God, she'd been so _selfish_.

Angela reached up and gently placed a hand on Brennan's back, but Brennan shrugged her off. She didn't want comfort.

She just wanted to see Booth.

An image came back to her, the last time she'd seen him, walking away from her, carrying untouched bags of Thai food and going home to no one, while every other person in his life celebrated together.

Tears welled in Brennan's eyes. She'd left him alone. For months she'd been devastated because he abandoned her, and now she'd done the same thing. Worse, even, because at least she had her friends.

Booth, it seemed, had been utterly alone.

So as much as Brennan wanted to be angry at him, for nearly killing himself, for being so reckless…all she could feel was the crushing ache of guilt and sorrow.

"You with Mr. Booth?" A doctor asked, approaching them.

They nodded, and Brennan was already leaning on her crutches and pulling herself to her feet.

"He's awake, and he's doing fine. We should be able to let him go in the next few hours."

"Can I see him?" Brennan blurted out.

The doctor nodded. "Of course."

Brennan turned to her friends. "I…I'm going to stay. With him. I…I can get a cab."

Hodgins glanced at his wife and then nodded. "Sure thing, Dr. B. Tell Booth we're glad he's okay."

"Sure."

And then Brennan was walking toward him.

~(B*B)~

Booth was sitting up on the small hospital bed, his fingers absently tracing the IV in his opposite wrist, when the door opened.

Suddenly Bones was standing in front of him.

Startled, Booth spoke in a raspy voice, "Bones…?" He felt the heat rising to his face, and suddenly Booth felt utterly ashamed that she was seeing him like this.

"Hi." The single syllable nearly did her in, and Brennan bit down on her lip hard, tears threatening her again.

"H-how did you-"

"They called me. Emergency contact."

"Right." Booth stared down at the bed sheets, unable to meet her eyes.

He thought of the last time _she'd_ been in this hospital, because she'd been kidnapped and shot and beaten and nearly raped.

And here he was, rushed to the same ER because he'd screwed up so badly the only thing for him to do was drink himself senseless.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I know it's…the last thing you want to be dealing with right now. You…you don't have to stay, I'm fine."

"Booth," her voice splintered in the middle of his name, and Brennan moved forward as quickly as she could on her crutches. There was no chair in the tiny trauma room, so she sat gingerly on the edge of his bed. "You are _not_ fine, you…you passed out in a parking lot, you…" She paused, staring at his hands.

Brennan reached out and tenderly took one of his hands in both of hers, examining the tiny cuts. "Oh, Booth, what did you do?"

Her voice was so heavy with sorrow it made him ache. "It was stupid…"

"No, it…you were alone. I, I know I've been shutting you out, and I know Hannah left-"

He raised his head at that, surprised. "You know?" She nodded. "I, I know I didn't tell you…I just didn't want you to think that was why-"

It was Brennan's turn to look away. She felt tears falling now; she knew, somehow, what Booth was going to say, and she couldn't bear to admit that it was exactly what she had thought.

Booth's heart dropped as he caught sight of the tears rolling down Bones' face. "Hey…Bones, hey…" He reached out with the hand she wasn't holding and threaded his fingers through her hair. "Don't cry…I'm okay…"

"I'm sorry," Brennan whispered thickly. "I'm so sorry, Booth."

She'd thought the apology was necessary in this situation, but from the way Booth's face slowly crumpled into devastation, it was the worst thing she could've said.

"Don't…don't apologize to me, Bones, please just…I've been needing to apologize to _you _for weeks and I keep…I keep screwing even that up-"

"Apologize for what?"

Booth let out a laugh that sounded remarkably close to crying. "For _what_? For…for everything! Bones, I…what I said, in your office, when Hannah was missing…God, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean a word of it. I'm so sorry, and…if I hadn't said it, you would've been safe, with _us_, and he would've never touched you-"

"You didn't know-"

"He nearly killed you, Bones…he, he nearly…" Booth's voice fell to pieces. His face was wet.

Brennan's eyes were wide and frightened; she'd never seen him break down like this. She slid closer on the bed, wrapping one hand around the nape of his neck. "It's okay…"

"No, it _isn't_!" He burst out, his whole body beginning to shudder. "I know what he did to you, I saw the file. I wasn't supposed to, I know, so I'm sorry for that, too, but…Bones, I'm why you were there. And I can't take back what happened to you, I c-can't…I can't make that go away.

"And I'm sorry for everything else, for how I've been since we got back, I…I left you, I know I wasn't supposed to, but I did…"

"You were right here…" Brennan protested in a broken voice, her own face wet with tears as well.

"No, not really, not in the way that mattered. I hurt you, I know I hurt you, but…I didn't even notice, and I think I'm most sorry for that. But Bones, I swear to God, it never stopped mattering, what we did…it always mattered, I promise…"

Brennan pulled him close, hugging him tightly. Her leg ached beneath her, but she wasn't letting go. Threading her fingers through his hair, Brennan whispered, "It's okay, Booth…ssh, it's okay…"

His voice was right by her ear, and it trembled as he continued thickly, "And what you did for me…what you did…I want to be so _mad_, Bones, because I could've lost you, and…I would've died. I swear I would've. But I can't be mad, because …God, Bones, you did that…for me, after everything I put you through." His voice cracked, a sob tearing out of him. "You think you don't have an open heart, Bones, but I'm the one who doesn't deserve you…"

Then he was really crying, like he hadn't in years and years, his face buried in Brennan's shoulder, his whole body shuddering violently as sobs ripped through him.

Brennan clamped her lips together, her throat aching as she fought back sobs. Tears dripped from her eyes into Booth's hair as she bent over him, clinging for dear life.

After several long minutes, when Booth's sobs had dwindled to shaky, gasping breaths, Brennan drew back slightly and touched her forehead with his. "It's okay. Everything's okay. I…I can help you."

Booth's eyes, warm and chocolate and wet, found hers, and Brennan saw everything there she'd been missing, and for the first time in months, hope flared inside her.

Then he opened his mouth and whispered, "No."

Brennan stared at him, confused. "No?"

"No…no, Bones, you…you had it right the first time."

She drew back slightly, fear seeping over her.

"Bones, I'm a wreck. I can't ask you to…I can't ask you to deal with this. Look how much I've hurt you already, I can't…I can't do that anymore."

"Booth-"

"What I said…I meant it, Bones. I don't deserve you." His voice cracked. "I don't deserve anyone, I…all I do is hurt people. It's why Hannah left. It's why Rebecca won't let me see Parker, it's why the squint squad's cut me out…all I do is hurt everyone. Especially you." He forced a smile, heartbreak seeping through it. "And that's the last thing I want to do."

"I, I don't…" The pitch of Brennan's voice heightened. "What?"

"You should go, Bones."

"No!" She snapped, stubborn. "I'm not leaving you alone, not after this…I can _help_-"

"Bones…this time you're the one who needs protecting. From _me_."

Hearing her own words, from over a year ago, thrown back at her felt like a knife, wrenched into her chest. "You're…you're wrong…" Surely there was something anthropological here, something about community and the role in the recovery process…

Booth leaned forward, and brushed his lips briefly against Brennan's hairline. "Please, Bones. I…I want you to go."

Wrenching away from his touch, Brennan pulled herself to a standing position, but she made no move to leave the room. Her natural logic was leaving her, and Brennan suddenly felt that if she just defied him, if she stood there without moving, no matter how many times he asked, Booth would eventually change his mind.

A minute stretched between them, silent and heavy.

"Bones," Booth whispered, his tone pleading. "_Please_."

She had been racking her brain for an airtight argument, some irrefutable piece of logic. What slipped out instead was the childish claim, "I don't want to go."

When Booth answered, he sounded so desperate and broken, Brennan hardly recognized his voice. "I know. And that's another thing for me to be sorry for, but…I need you to. For me."

Brennan had once claimed she couldn't think of anything she wouldn't do for Booth.

It was possible they had arrived at the exception.

"I can't," she told him softly.

Before he could protest, the doctor from before walked in, nodding in greeting and murmuring, "Mr. Booth, just need to do a quick check…"

"Sure thing, doc, could we, uh…do that in private?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Brennan knew what was coming. The doctor asked her to go to the waiting room, and there was no real way to refuse.

She tried to stay close, hovering outside, but after she nearly got in the way of a gurney, an ornery nurse directed her down the hall and into the waiting room.

When she returned, only twenty minutes later, Booth's room was empty.

_A/N: Whoo. Okay. So that was kind of draining. But I hope you all enjoyed it. This is kind of the height of angst. I think. Or I hope. Or not. Who knows?_

_Super cryptic, right? I've got kind of a heavy week, academically, but I'm going to try to get the next chapter up fairly soon. Reviews are always a helpful motivator…the loner the better (shameless, I know). I love to hear what you guys think about everything in the chapter. Thanks so much for reading, as always, you're all fantastic._


	11. Break Myself

_Author's Note: Hey guys. Thanks for the awesome response to last chapter, as always, and I'm sorry I made you wait so long for this one. Last week was pretty crazy at school, and the first half of my Thanksgiving break has been super busy, too. Hoping to get the next one up fairly quickly, but after that it may get a LITTLE slower for two weeks as I go into finals and scripts and films being due. Still, keep up the great feedback and I'll get them out as fast as I can._

_Song this chapter is "Break Myself" by Something Corporate. Amazing band and song. Enough rambling (not that I couldn't go into a rant about what a douche Booth was last week. Ugh). Enjoy!_

Chapter 10

_Break Myself_

_And you're in pieces  
As your world becomes a rainstorm  
You've got no shelter I'm a thousand miles away  
If you survive the day_

_You say you're leaving  
You say you're leaving_

_Well, I'm willing to break myself  
To shake this hell from everything I touch  
I'm willing to bleed for days my... reds and grays  
So you don't hurt so much_

Booth sat on a bench outside the hospital, his head low, holding his coat up and over him. It was raining, but Booth couldn't bring himself to stay inside. He was nervously waiting for a cab, casting frequent glances back at the entrance in case Bones came out looking for him.

It had taken a lot of insistences and a form saying he was leaving against medical advice, but Booth had gotten himself discharged within fifteen minutes of Brennan leaving the room.

He closed his eyes against the mental image of Bones returning to his hospital room to find it empty. He knew she'd be hurt, and still worried about him (another thing for him to feel guilty for).

But there'd been a certain clarity in this, in waking up at the hospital with no memory of how he got there, in being informed that he'd been found blacked out in a parking lot by a random neighbor, in finding out your blood alcohol level was a life threatening level…and especially in seeing Bones, still on crutches, hobbling into his hospital room looking terrified and _guilty_ over _him._

He'd hit rock bottom, and Booth had dealt Brennan enough blows...he'd be damned if he was going to drag her down with him.

Booth pulled the coat further up off his back, stretching it over his head like an umbrella, but the material was thin and soon he was soaked and shivering.

Adjusting the coat, Booth's eyes fell on the hospital ID bracelet on his wrist, and the sight of it made shame well in his chest.

Things had to change. That much he knew now…the clarity had given him at least that.

Still, when his cab pulled up and Booth ducked quickly into it, out of the rain, he heard himself telling the driver to stop by one of the all night liquor stores.

~(B*B)~

Thanks to her crutches, Brennan wasn't able to run around the hospital looking for Booth. It took her long enough to check the rooms on that floor. When she didn't find him, Brennan stood in his tiny, empty room until the doctor who'd came to get her walked by.

Booth, apparently had himself discharged early. Against medical advice, he'd gone home.

It didn't surprise Brennan, not after his earlier insistences. It hurt, that he so badly didn't want her help, but Brennan tucked that pain away with rest of it, to that hidden, compartmentalized part of herself.

Instead, she only felt fear.

Brennan called a cab as well. It was after four a.m., but she couldn't bring herself to give up yet.

She gave the driver Booth's address.

~(B*B)~

Booth didn't remember much before waking up in the hospital…he remembered reading Bones' statement in the file (much as he wished he could forget it), and going to the bar, then leaving the bar for home…

Beyond that, there were a lot of blank spaces.

So he was momentarily surprised when he swung open his apartment door to find utter destruction.

He glanced at the clock. It was late, but this wasn't the kind of mess that could be ignored…shards of glass covered most of the floor , so pain was waiting for Booth anywhere he stepped.

He set down the two six packs he'd gotten (the only thing he'd allowed himself to purchase, an improvement at least) and gingerly moved across the room to get a broom.

Gripping the handle of the broom, Booth surveyed the mess, unsure of where to even start. Flashes of the evening came back to him and he stared down at his hands, finally understanding the numerous slices to his skin.

Self-revulsion nearly choked him again as Booth thought of Brennan taking his hands, so worried, and how he hadn't been able to answer her question about them because he hadn't known.

As he begun sweeping aside the evidence of his last drunken rage, Booth ripped a beer from the six pack and wrenched it open, leaving the rest in their bag on the counter.

So fifteen minutes later, when Brennan knocked twice on his door and then, when he didn't answer, she opened it herself , only to find him sweeping shards into a large pile of broken glass, one hand on the broom and the other gripping his beer.

The lecture she'd prepared on the way over, on how it was irresponsible of him to leave the hospital before they were ready to discharge him, and how it was ridiculous for him to expect her to stay away after what happened last time he'd been left on his own, left Brennan the second she got a look at the scene in front of her.

Her face crumpling, Brennan's eyes snapped to Booth's, who was looking horrified at her sudden presence. "Booth…"

"You shouldn't be here," Booth told her roughly.

"Booth-" She stepped tentatively, awkwardly sweeping aside glass with her crutches so she could plant them firmly on the floor.

"I don't want you to see this, Bones, okay, please, just go…"

She ignored him, inching one of her crutches ahead to clear a path to him.

When Booth protested again, his voice was louder and harsher than he meant for it to be. "Just, _stop_, Bones, okay? _Stop it! _And _don't _come any closer, you're going to hurt yourself."

They both froze, staring at each other, and Booth shivered.

It was an apt warning.

Brennan broke the stalemate, breaking the gaze as her eyes flickered from the bottle in Booth's hand to two six packs on the table, still in bags.

"You nearly died," Brennan said in a low, tight voice. "_Hours_ ago, you nearly died of alcohol poisoning, and now…" She bit down on her lip, physically cutting off the rest of her statement.

Booth followed her eyes, his shoulders slumping. He knew what she was thinking, but Brennan wouldn't accuse him of anything, wouldn't even suggest it. She knew more than most how that would hurt him.

Slowly, deliberately, he put the beer down. "I'm gonna work on it."

"You don't have to do that by yourself."

"I can't ask you for help, Bones," Booth said quietly.

"You aren't asking," Brennan retorted, using the tone that suggested she thought she was spouting indisputable logic. "I'm offering. There's an obvious difference-"

"Bones…" He exhaled slowly. Booth didn't know how to do this without hurting her. "Look at you, you…you've been through a lot-"

"I'm _fine_," Brennan gritted out stubbornly. "You were the one most recently hospitalized."

"Yeah, and it was my own _stupid_ fault, Bones." Frustration swelling, Booth hurled the broom handle away. "_Look_ around. This, _this_…" He waved a hand vaguely at the ruin of the living room. "…is what I do, this is what happens around me now."

Brennan frowned; something in her chest had seized up, a strange sort of panic descending. "I don't follow your reasoning."

Booth sighed, shaking his head. He clenched his hand at his side, resisting the urge to reach for his beer. "Bones, you…you said you've needed a break from me." She opened her mouth to protest, but Booth rushed on before Brennan could speak. "And I get that. I don't blame you. I think…I think it's a good idea."

Dragging her gaze away, it took Brennan a moment before she could speak. "Booth, I never…I never wanted…" She swallowed, her fingers tightening around the cool metal of her crutches. "I wasn't aware that Hannah left, I didn't know you were alone and…it's understandable that you would be having a difficult time since she left-"

"What?" Booth's head snapped up, and he gave Brennan a hard, blazing look. "You think…all this...it's because of _Hannah_?"

Brennan looked surprised at the ferocity of his tone. "I…the logical progression of events suggests-"

He was walking toward her, glass crunching beneath his feet. Not once did his gaze waver, the intensity of it making it momentarily difficult for Brennan to breathe. "_Bones_. This is not about Hannah leaving me. It's…it's about…it's about what kind of guy I turned into, it's about how I treated you for five months…it's about what almost happened to you because of that." He reached out, placing his hand over one of hers, which was still clenched around the crutch, as though this was enough of an indication.

Brennan stared up at him, suddenly fighting tears.

"This…all this didn't start because Hannah left me," Booth continued softly. "Hannah left me because all this started. She left." Brennan reached for him, but Booth leaned away, and he pulled the hand covering hers back as he did. "She had the right idea, Bones. I'm not good for anyone right now."

Brennan was already shaking her head, but Booth turned around and walked away, not waiting to hear what argument she came up with. He picked up the abandoned broom and beer, lowering his eyes and saying again, "You should go."

They stared at each other, at an impasse. Booth recognized the stubborn glint in Brennan's eye, but she said nothing. Perhaps she had run out of arguments.

"Bones. Please." He moved behind her to open the door, and as he did, Booth made a move toward the bags of beer, still sitting on the counter.

In spite of her crutches, Brennan was closer, and she reached for the two bags with one hand.

One she managed to grab. The other bag Booth got a hand on, as well, and the opposing momentums sent it crashing to the ground.

Brennan froze instantly, the tinkling of broken glass in her ears, watching the growing pool of beer pool onto the floor. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't apologize. Ever," Booth murmured automatically. Slowly, he dragged his gaze from the mess on the floor to meet Brennan's eyes.

He could see, then, that he was fighting a losing battle. Brennan's eyes, that brilliant depthless blue that still made his heart turn over, were swirling with equal parts concern and stubbornness.

She hadn't moved toward the door.

He'd blamed her, to an extent, for running last year, going off to the Mapoopo Islands or whatever the hell they were called…conveniently forgetting that he'd been running just as fast in the opposite direction.

When you got down to it…Bones had never given up on him.

He clearly wasn't going to convince her to do it now.

Booth reached out and curled his thumb under her chin, gently. "You should go get some sleep…"

"I'm _not_ leaving you alone, Booth, no matter how much you insist-"

"Okay," he cut her off. "I get it. But you've been up all night." He touched her hand, the one tightened around the still intact six pack. "You can take that. I don't need it…" Brennan opened her mouth to say something, but Booth continued before she could speak, "How about we go to the diner later tonight?"

Brennan looked hesitant, but after a moment she nodded. "Really?"

"Really. We'll talk, okay? Get some pie," He flashed her a small, dim smile. "It'll be good."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Brennan's face. "Yeah. Good."

"I'll call you, alright? Later today."

Brennan nodded and finally, she turned and hobbled out the door, awkwardly hooking the bag with the beer through her wrist, to where her cab was still waiting.

Booth watched her go, his mouth bitter with the taste of his lies.

~(B*B)~

Slinking low in the back of the cab, Brennan glanced at her watch and grimaced.

She was supposed to be at work in a few hours.

Typically, Brennan had no problem skipping a full night's sleep; certain cases often required it. But her physical therapy, as well as the medication she still had to take, made fatigue a much more pressing concern lately.

She decided to at least grab a few hours of sleep, but for some reason the thought of facing Angela and Hodgins wasn't particularly appealing.

For the first time in a month, Brennan went to her own apartment to sleep.

~(B*B)~

She was only half an hour late for work, but when Brennan got to the lab, the platform was empty. Confused, she wandered into her office to find the entire team, including Sweets, gathered inside.

Brennan stopped in the doorway, surprised by the crowd.

For a moment, everyone stared at Brennan, expectantly. When it became clear she didn't know what they were expecting, Cam voiced the question, "How's Booth?"

Brennan slid her gaze away as she walked to her desk, taking her time before answering. "Booth is…he's okay. He's home now, so…"

They kept watching her. Finally, Angela said, "That's good, then."

Cam shook her head. "I still can't believe this…"

At that, they were off, talking over top of each about the absurdity of what Booth had done, speculating as to when it started, or the timing of his break up with Hannah.

"Did he just started drinking more after she left?"

"Well, he showed up at the house drunk, but we don't know if that was before or after…"

"No, he was pretty far gone when I saw him at the bar, when he was living in a hotel…they definitely hadn't broken up yet then…"

"And the night we went out when Bren got discharged…"

The conversation swirled around Brennan, pulsing in her ears without really sinking in.

Suddenly her voice, fierce but shaking, cut sharply through the discussion, stopping them all. "Actually, you know what? What I said, it…it was erroneous. Booth is _not_ okay, he…he had a dangerously high blood alcohol level, he could have…he could have _died." _Her voice cracked, and Brennan stood up, giving them all a hard, blazing look. "So, _no_. He is _not_ okay and none of us…none of us noticed."

Silence hovered, guilt etched on the four faces in front of Brennan.

"We should've been there," Cam acknowledged in a low voice. "We should've checked up on him…"

"Bren," Angela pointed out gently, "Those lunches, and dinner the other night…we thought you didn't want him there."

"I…I didn't but…I never said _you_ had to take a break from him, too," she shot back. Her eyes swept Cam, Hodgins and Sweets. "You were all working cases with him for _weeks_!"

"Yeah, we…we sent him results is all," Hodgins said.

"With you out as his partner, Booth's lab visits were even less frequent than usual," Cam told her patiently.

"And they were already pretty infrequent," Hodgins added.

"You aren't the only one he's distanced himself from lately, Sweetie," Angela told her gently.

Brennan ducked her head, staring hard at her hands, twined together on top of her desk. She could feel the beginning prickling of tears, and she gritted her teeth.

"I didn't know there was a problem," Cam was admitting, her voice pained.

"Me, either," Sweets added. "He was at work every day, and even when he told me Hannah left him it was pretty casual…"

"I guess after everything that happened we should have known he'd be having a hard time…" Angela acknowledged.

"He could've come to us for help-"

"He thinks everyone hates him," Brennan interrupted coldly. They all looked at her again; she was obviously fighting back tears, but her face was set, melded into an expression of fury. "He…he thinks…" Booth's words in the hospital last night came back to her, and Brennan parroted them. "…he doesn't think he deserves anyone, that all he does is hurt people."

No one seemed to know what to say to that. After a long, tense moment, Cam murmured, "But that's…that isn't true at all."

Brennan's throat narrowed, and she clenched her jaw. Suddenly dangerously close to crying, she forced out, "I…I have work to do. Please just…go."

"Bren-"

"Just get _out_!" Brennan couldn't keep the anger from sweeping into her tone. The others exchanged looks, and Hodgins, Cam and Sweets obediently stood up to leave.

Angela, though, was more stubborn. She folded her arms, staying where she was on the couch.

"I mean it, Ange, you should go."

Ignoring her, Angela trained her gaze on her best friend, who was determinedly not looking up. "You didn't do anything wrong, Sweetie. This wasn't your fault."

Angela had so correctly seen the guilt beneath Brennan's anger and accusations that it nearly broke her. A sob rounded in Brennan's throat, and she sucked her lower lip between her teeth, clamping her mouth shut to keep it back.

She didn't trust herself to speak right now, so Brennan couldn't give Angela all the reasons she was wrong. Brennan couldn't make herself remind Angela that she'd known something was wrong, weeks ago, when they'd first found out Booth was drinking….yet she had done nothing.

So Angela stood and came around to Brennan's desk, giving her a quick sideways hug that Brennan didn't return.

"Bren, just, please…try really hard to believe me."

~(B*B)~

Booth woke up on the couch in the early afternoon. The broom was beside him on the floor, and most of the glass was now in various piles around the room.

The scent of beer hit him, faint but undeniable and Booth shuddered a little, his throat rough and dry.

He glanced at the clock. It was after two, and within a few hours he was supposed to call Bones about meeting at the diner.

But he wouldn't be doing that.

She couldn't accept letting him go. He knew no matter how much he explained it to her, Brennan would have some logical explanation as to why he was wrong. He couldn't beat her, would never be able to convince her that she was better off without him.

So he had to get away.

The more he thought about it, the calmer Booth became. It wasn't just about getting away from Bones, protecting her from the train wreck that was his life…it was about removing _himself_ from the wreckage.

Here in DC, the mess was piling up. He couldn't turn around with tripping over it. The squints, Parker, Hannah, Bones…one bad decision, one casualty after another.

He had to go somewhere else if he wanted to put himself back together without ruining them more.

So Booth made a few phone calls, packed some bags, and loaded his car. Then he wrote a short note to Bones and stood, uncertain, clutching it in his hand.

The note was because he couldn't call her, couldn't try to argue with her again. But he couldn't just not call her and disappear…after last night, she'd think the worst.

Luckily, he still knew her so well. Booth knew what Bones would do when he never called…she'd call him several times (he wouldn't answer), and then she would come to his apartment. She'd knock and he wouldn't answer, so she'd let herself in.

So Booth grabbed the key from the fake rock she'd scoffed at years ago and instead stuffed the small note inside.

Then, when it was late enough, he drove to see Rebecca.

~(B*B)~

"You ready to go?"

Angela leaned against the frame Brennan's door, quirking her lips in a tentative half smile. For the most part, they'd left Brennan alone since her outburst this morning, and she'd been relieved for the escape of her empty office.

"You and Hodgins go ahead," Brennan said, not looking up from the file in front of her.

"Bren, come on, you can't start this working all night thing again…"

"I'm not…" Brennan sighed, and finally lifted her head to look at Angela. "Booth and I are going to dinner. To talk. I assume once he calls me he'll come by and give me a ride."

"Great!" Angela said, shooting Brennan an encouraging smile. "That's really good, Sweetie."

Brennan nodded noncommittally.

"So I'll see you at home later?"

"Sure." Brennan hesitated, then stopped Angela just as she was about to duck out. "Ange? I…I'm sorry about earlier. It's not….none of you are to blame for what happened to Booth."

Angela's eyes went soft around the edges. "Neither are you."

Brennan didn't respond, and after a moment Angela simply waved goodbye and left her alone.

~(B*B)~

The door in front of him swung open and then Rebecca was in front of him, her face impassive.

"Parker's at soccer practice."

"I know," Booth told her, his expression earnest. "I was just…hoping I could talk to you." He paused, then clarified unnecessarily. "About the other day. And…some other stuff?"

Rebecca sighed. "Come on in."

Ten minutes later, Booth was sitting across from his ex at the kitchen table, an untouched mug of coffee in front of him. Rebecca was staring at him, having just heard a basic explanation of what happened with Greg Thomas, Hannah, and Bones.

"…anyway, I…obviously I haven't been handling it very well. What almost happened to Bones especially." He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. He was simplifying the issue, but Booth couldn't go through it all again: the five months leading up to the kidnapping, what he'd said to Bones before she'd been taking, all the reasoning behind her sacrifice…Rebecca didn't need to know all that.

Apparently, though, the bare minimum was enough.

"Seeley, I…I'm sorry. That's…I can't even imagine."

"I'm not trying to make excuses," Booth told her sincerely. "I screwed up. There's no way to apologize for that. The thing is…I've _been_ screwing up a lot lately and I…I need to fix things. So I'm going to just take some time to…get away and straighten myself out."

Slowly, Rebecca nodded. "How long?"

"A few weeks, I think. Maybe more. However long it takes. I'm just a phone call away, so if you or Parks need anything..."

"I'll call," Rebecca studied him for a moment, her features slowly softening. "You'll be okay, Seeley."

He gave her a faint smile. "I hope so." Then, "Can I pick Parker up from practice? So I can have a chance to talk to him about everything?"

Rebecca agreed surprisingly easy, and they talked for a few more minutes, discussing the specifics of Booths' spontaneous plan, and then he left to pick up his son.

~(B*B)~

The lab had been empty for over an hour when Brennan finally called Booth herself.

There was no answer.

Another hour passed. She called two more times.

Even as she inwardly acknowledged that Booth rarely stayed at his office in the Hoover this late, Brennan waited another hour before she forced herself to call Angela and admit that he wasn't coming.

~(B*B)~

As she got into the passenger seat of Angela's car, unable to look at the sympathetic expression in her best friend's eyes, all Brennan could think of was Booth cleaning up that glass, still drinking as he did so.

She thought of how he'd been found in the parking lot of his apartment building last night, how if he'd stayed inside instead of wandered out, Booth would have been dead before anyone found him.

A fist closing around her throat, Brennan demanded, "Take me to his apartment."

For a moment, Angela looked confused by the vehemence in her voice, but then her eyes darkened. "Sure, we'll go right there."

Brennan sat silently on the short drive to Booth's, a knot of fear tightening in her throat. Angela pulled up at the curb of Booth's building. The car had barely rolled to a stop before Brennan flung open her door and headed inside.

A full minute of constant knocking yielded no response, and after a moment of frustration, Brennan's eyes fell on Booth's hide-a-key rock. Thankful for his poor decoy system, Brennan leaned her crutches against the wall and knelt down.

Instead of the key she was expecting though, Brennan found a white piece of paper, folded multiple times to fit it into the plastic rock.

Her name, _Bones, _was scrawled in shaky, miniscule writing across one of the folds.

Fingers trembling, Brennan pulled apart the note. It was short, vague, obviously left there only so she wouldn't think something terrible had happened.

_Bones,_

_I'm okay. Don't worry. I just need to get away for awhile, get some distance…I want to figure out if it's still possible to put things back together. I'm sorry I didn't call you tonight, and that I didn't tell you I was leaving. I'm sorry for so many things._

_~Booth_

She read it three more times, until a tear dripped from her eye onto the paper. Brennan wiped it away, smudging the ink, bits of Booth's goodbye bleeding onto her fingers.

~(B*B)~

Booth's phone was off in the seat beside him. From the moment he'd missed the first call from Brennan, on his way to pick up Parker, he'd had to keep it off.

He didn't want another reason to think of Brennan, expecting his call, waiting for him. And most of all, he didn't want to picture her face when she realized he'd gone.

It wasn't a long drive and soon Booth was standing on a porch, double checking the address on the Post-It in his hand, and ringing the doorbell.

After a moment, there were footsteps, and then the door swung open to reveal the grinning face in front of him. "Hey, big brother."

Booth shifted the bags on his shoulder. "You sure this is okay? I mean, is Padme-"

"It's fine, don't even worry about it. Besides…sounds like you need the vacation." Jared clapped a hand on Booth's shoulder. "Come on in."

_A/N: Okay, so that was a little shorter. But that should help me update faster. So yay. Like I said, things are getting pretty busy next week (term papers, editing, etc.) But I'll definitely need the fanfic break. So keep doing what you're doing and I'll update as muh as possible (though with this one, I'm hoping to have another chapter up by the end of my break, i.e. this week). _

_Thanks for being patient with me! You guys are awesome.  
_


	12. Life Without You

_Hey guys! Sorry for the delay on this…like I said, classes are ending and it's finals time, so things have been pretty crazed. Next week will be similarly busy, but I may have a little more time to write since I'll be done with editing and no longer living in the studio…so hopefully, I can get it up sooner than before (with the right motivation…shameless appeal for reviews haha). You guys are awesome as always, and thanks for being so patient. Hope you enjoy this one…song is Life Without You by Stanfour, very fitting._

Chapter Eleven

_Didn't want to say goodbye  
Didn't want to see you cry  
And look what I've done_

_Didn't want to make a mess  
Broke your heart and I confess:  
I'm the guilty one!_

_Oh this is life without you  
I'm learning how to miss you  
I guess I need to know, how it feels like  
This is life without you  
I don't know who to turn to  
And everything I know, to say this goodbye  
so goodbye  
This is life without you  
This is life without you_

"Sweetie, what are you doing?"

Brennan had been inside Booth's apartment building for twenty minutes when Angela, having circled the lot long enough to realize that Booth's car wasn't there, worriedly went in to find her.

She walked down the hallway to find Brennan leaning against Booth's apartment door, a crumpled piece of paper in her hand.

Angela touched the top of Brennan's had gently. "Booth isn't here?"

Brennan looked up at her best friend, and Angela's heart caught at the raw pain in Brennan's eyes. "He's gone."

Exhaling slowly, Angela braced her hand against the wall and, with difficulty, sat down beside Brennan. "What do you mean, he's gone? Bren, where did he…" Her voice trailed off slowly as Brennan soundlessly passed her Booth's note.

"Oh…" Angela scanned the note twice cutting her gaze at Brennan in concern. For a long moment, Angela couldn't think of what to say, and she squeezed Brennan's shoulder gently. Finally, she tried hesitantly, "Maybe this is okay, Bren. Maybe…maybe it's what he needs."

Brennan was already shaking her head, and she protested in a thick voice, "He didn't say where he was going, Angela. He didn't…" Her voice hitched, and Brennan looked away. "He didn't even say if he's coming back."

"Of course he'll be back," Angela murmured automatically. "Parker's here, his job's here…_you're_ here." When Brennan said nothing, Angela reread the note, then said carefully, "It sounds like he's just taking some time to get himself together. It could be good."

It was obvious from the dull, detached look in Brennan's eyes that she wasn't taking in a word Angela was saying. So Angela wordlessly curled her fingers around Brennan's and sat silently beside her best friend for the next few minutes.

Until Brennan's voice quietly, slowly broke through the quiet. "I have to find him."

~(B*B)~

"_Bones_! Bones…"

Booth's eyes snapped open to meet relative darkness. He stilled his thrashing legs, tangled in the sheets. He was soaked in sweat.

It was that nightmare again, the one where he ran through the studio basement, calling her name until his throat was raw, but never hearing her answer.

Booth flung the sheets away, swallowing hard. He was shaky and disoriented, particularly in the unfamiliarity of Jared's guest room.

He'd gotten to his brothers at only seven thirty, and had barely exchanged greetings before Padme had correctly observed that he looked like he hadn't slept in days and shown him to the guest room.

Booth rolled over, trying to even out his harsh, shallow breathing.

It was useless, as it always was. That nightmare brought him right back to that moment, calling for Bones even as he got increasingly terrified that he was too late, that he'd lost her.

So after a moment, Booth stood and headed out of the room, unable to shake the need for his usual post-nightmare routine.

He'd been rummaging around Jared's kitchen for several minutes when he heard a voice behind him. "Hey."

Booth turned just as light flooded the kitchen; his brother was standing in the doorway, blinking sleepily. "Everything okay?"

"Sorry I woke you," Booth replied gruffly.

"You looking for something?" Jared asked, arching a brow.

Booth clenched his fists at his side, grimacing as he admitted, "I need a drink. A beer, just…something."

Jared chuckled softly. "Can't help you there, bro." He grabbed his wallet on the kitchen counter and, after a moment, flipped a chip in Booth's direction. "Over two years sober. No alcohol in this house."

Turning the small chip over in his hand, Booth nodded. "Right." He'd known that; in fact, it was part of the reason why he'd decided on his brother's place.

Jared had an uncharacteristically scrutinizing look on his face as he studied his brother. He walked to the fridge and grabbed two water bottles, wordlessly passing one to Booth and jerking his head toward the table "You wanna sit, Seeley?"

Booth accepted the water bottle but didn't open it. "It's okay, Jared. You can go back to bed."

But Jared was already sitting down. "I'm cool, never needed much sleep."

"Right." Booth's fingers nervously picked at the label on the water bottle.

The mental spiral was happening again, and here in his brother's house, he had no way to numb it.

Bones in the basement….her statement in the file…Hannah in Brennan's lab coat….Greg Thomas' hands all over Bones…his last words to her, the _I don't need you_….leaving her in the hospital…his friends in the diner, without him….Rebecca sending Parker out of his apartment…breaking down in front of Bones…her waiting for him tonight, for a call that wouldn't come, yet another disappointment from him…

A frustrated, strangled sound rose from Booth's throat. He could feel Jared's eyes on him. "Seeley. What's going on?" After a moment of silence, Jared prodded knowingly, "You just taking the breakup hard?"

Booth's head snapped up, his gaze blazing as it landed on Jared. "It's _not_ about Hannah!" he snapped with more force than necessary, causing Jared's eyebrows to shoot up.

"Okay, okay. Point taken." He paused, then added, "So it's Tempe?"

Booth blinked at him, surprised. "Wh…why do you say that?"

"Am I wrong?"

Staring down at the bottle in his hand, Booth hesitated before answering.

His phone conversation with Jared had been brief. Booth had replied to his brother's innocuous '_How are you'? _with the blunt answer '_I just got out of the hospital because I drank myself unconscious. Any chance you're up for a house guest?'_

Now, the curiosity in Jared's expression was palpable. So, sighing, Booth finally walked over to the table and joined his brother.

Then, in an unprecedented moment, he began to confide in his younger brother.

Booth told him everything; might as well, considering it was all circling in his head, and he no longer had any way to stop it.

Jared listened silently, his reactions limited to facial expressions as Booth went through everything.

When he finished, Jared nodded thoughtfully for a long moment, then spoke for the first time in nearly half an hour. "Can I ask something, Seel?"

His voice hoarse, Booth replied warily, "Sure."

"Why'd you come _here_?"

Booth almost smiled. It was a fair question. All his life he was the one bailing Jared out, letting his brother make permanent claim to the role as the screw up. Booth confiding in _him_ for once…it wasn't normal.

Booth took his time considering the question. There were a lot of reasons…Jared's former alcoholism and current sobriety, for one thing. The distance, for another…it was out of DC but less than half an hour away, in case Parker needed him.

What Booth said, though, in a low voice, was, "I figured…you might be the one person who wouldn't think less of me." Booth paused, his eyes darkening. "It's not that I don't deserve it, but…"

"…but who am I to judge, right?" Jared finished with a wry smile.

"I don't mean-"

"Nah, I get it." Jared met his eyes. "And you're right. I don't think less of you."

A small smile curved Booth's lips. "Thanks."

Jared pushed back his chair and stood. "You're welcome. And you know you can stay as long as you need. But…" He clapped a hand on his older brother's shoulder. "You should call her."

Booth didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I can't."

"She's going to be worried about you. I know, I know , you left her your sad little…fake rock note. But you need to call, and tell her your really okay." He paused, then added, "And that you're coming back."

Nodding wordlessly, Booth didn't bother to tell his brother he wasn't sure yet if that was true.

~(B*B)~

Brennan was waiting outside Hacker's office for twenty minutes before he got the Hoover the next day.

"Temperance!" Surprise was threaded to his smile, but he beamed at her. "Surprised to see you here…how are you feeling?"

"Fine," she said dismissively . "I'm here about Booth, actually…"

Motioning her to follow him into his office, Hacker nodded knowingly, "Right. Can't say I was too surprised when he called yesterday. He's been a bit _off_ ever since that Greg Thomas case." He gave her an apologetic smile. "You know that, of course. We'll miss him, of course, but-"

"Miss him?" Brennan repeated , her stomach clenching. She'd been terrified of coming here and finding out that Booth had quit, or transferred, or anything permanent. "He's…how many vacation days did he take?"

Hacker frowned. "He asked for a leave of absence, actually. An indefinite one." Brennan looked away, tightening her jaw as she forced her expression to remain impassive. "You didn't know?"

"I just wasn't certain how specific he was," Brennan forced out finally. "Did he…mention where he was going?"

"No, he didn't say." Hacker's brow was furrowed, concern starting to settle on his face. "Listen, Temperance…"

"Thank you," Brennan said hurriedly. Before he could stop her, she turned and hurried out of the office.

Angela was asleep in the car outside the building, jolting awake only when Brennan slammed the passenger side door behind her.

Straightening, Angela glanced blearily at Brennan, waiting for an update. Finally, Angela prompted, "So?"

"Leave of absence," Brennan said flatly. "Indefinite."

Angela winced, but after a moment, she forced a smile. "See, he's coming back."

"Right," Brennan said dully.

Deciding it was best not to push it right now, Angela cranked the car and wordlessly drove toward the lab.

~(B*B)~

Booth was sitting at the table, listening to Padme and Jared tell him about the house renovation they did last summer, when his cell phone rang.

He picked it up from the table and looked down at the screen, then clicked the ignore button and silenced the ringing.

Jared stopped talking immediately, giving his brother a look.

"Not yet," Booth murmured, shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth and avoiding his brother's gaze.

After a moment, though, his phone rang again. His chest constricting, Booth turned his cell phone off and shoved it into his pocket.

Silence hung for a moment; Padme glanced at Jared uncertainly, and after a moment of hesitation, Jared started, "Seeley-"

Booth stood abruptly. "Thanks for breakfast, Padme, it was great…but, uh, I think I'm gonna…take a walk."

Not giving them a chance to protest, Booth walked out the door.

Walking down the unfamiliar street, Booth clutched his head, screwing his eyes shut, suddenly dizzy.

When he got back, Jared and Padme would be gone to work. But here was the flaw in Booth's plan to get away…at least in DC, he'd had work as a distraction. Granted, it wasn't particularly effective, as working without Bones was a glaringly obvious reminder of _why_ he wasn't.

Still, there was paperwork, and interrogations….other things to think about.

Here, all he had was time.

And Booth really wanted a drink.

~(B*B)~

"You _really_ don't know where he is?"

Cam sighed, and repeated yet again, "I promise you, I didn't even know Booth was gone until Dr. Hodgins told me this morning."

Brennan turned away, frustrated. Walking away from all of them, Brennan left one of her crutches behind so she could pull out her cell phone.

Again, it went straight to voicemail, and this time, Brennan left one., her voice quiet so the others couldn't hear.

"Booth, it's me…Bones. Just …Please call me when you can. Please."

When Brennan hung up and turned to face the platform, she saw the others looking at her pityingly. "What?" she snapped, not expecting an answer, and not waiting around for one she hobbled toward her office.

~(B*B)~

For the first week and half he was at his brother's, Jared mostly left Booth alone. It was clear Booth was still wrecked about what happened. Sometimes he wanted to talk, and Jared would listen, but mostly Booth was surly and withdrawn, battling his demons on his own as always.

Always a light sleeper, Jared heard Seeley most nights, in the room beside the master bedroom, screaming in nightmares until he woke u and started wandering the house, like some visiting ghost.

For awhile, Jared said nothing about his brothers nightmares, or his midnight excursions; not until Jared had heard the car pull away from the house two nights in a row did he do something about it.

He was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark when his brother appeared, pulling on a jacket over clothes he'd clearly just thrown on. "You going somewhere?" Jared asked innocently.

Booth spun, his eyes wide, looking for all the world like a teenager caught breaking curfew. "Sorry I woke you," he mumbled.

"Nothing new," Jared said casually. He paused, then stated slyly, "You found the bar, huh?"

The guilt that flickered across Booth's face told Jared he was right. Awkward silence stretched between them for a moment, and then Jared ventured, "Listen, man, there's a meeting nearby I used to go to, Friday nights at this church…I can take you if you wan-"

"_No_!" Booth nearly yelled back. Instantly defensive, he retorted firmly. "I'm not an alcoholic, Jared. I'm not like…"

"What?" Jared shot back, raising his eyebrows. "Not like me?"

"Not like _Dad_," Booth corrected forcefully. "I'm not."

"Never said you were. You haven't hurt anyone."

Exhaling slowly, Booth ran a shaking hand over his face. "Except…" He paused, throat constricting. "Except I have."

For a moment Jared was uncomprehending, but then he rolled his eyes. "It's not the same-"

"I put her in the hospital, Jared," Booth gritted out. "He nearly…" He swallowed. "That bastard shot her, and he nearly raped her. All because I yelled at her, said I didn't need her. Well, that and because for five months I'd given her every reason to think I would have left her for dead!"

He was shouting by the end of this explanation, and Jared merely stared at him, his expression maddeningly calm.

After a long silence, pierced only by Booth's harsh, ragged breathing, Jared asked simply, "What would you have done?" When Booth didn't immediately answer, Jared added, "You loved Hannah. Or at least, you said you did. So what would you have done?"

"I don't know," Booth muttered, staring at the floor, his standard answer.

"Yeah, you do."

The pause lasted forever, but finally Booth breathed out, "I couldn't have handled it. Losing her, I couldn't have…I can't live without her." Jared tilted his head at him, waiting for more. So finally, Booth admitted. "Bones. It's always been Bones, I…I need her."

"Yeah I know," Jared said, half smiling at him. "So why are you here?"

In the long, heavy silence that followed, Jared stood up and easily pulled Booth's keys from his hand. "Go to bed, Seeley."

~(B*B)~

"What are you doing?"

Brennan glanced over her shoulder to see Angela standing in the doorway, frowning at her.

Immediately, Brennan turned back around and carried on with what she was doing: piling her things into her suitcase.

"I'm packing."

"You don't have to go right away."

Brennan closed her eyes briefly. "You heard the doctor, Ange. I'm cleared to drive, and the crutches are gone." She nodded at the cane lying unused on her bed. "There's no reason I can't go back to my own apartment."

Angela sighed, raking her hands through her hair. "Bren, I don't think you should go. I…I'm worried about you."

Her hands stilled, hovering over the suitcase. Without turning to face her friend, Brennan stated flatly, "The doctor said-"

"I'm not talking about your leg, Bren," Angela retorted heatedly. "Booth being gone…I know you're upset, and you're becoming a little obsessed-"

"It's been over a week, Angela." Brennan interrupted, finally whirling to face her. "He won't answer my calls, no one at work seems to know where he is…and now that I can drive myself around, I can be much more effective in searching for him…"

"See, that's what worries me. All this stuff about searching for Booth…he isn't _missing_, Bren. He left."

Instantly, hot tears welled in Brennan's eyes and she quickly turned around again, frustrated. Since Booth had left, she'd found herself constantly on the verge of tears, and it was a weakness she hated.

Angela's chest constricted instantly, and she placed a hand on Brennan's back. "Sweetie, I didn't mean it like that….I just meant, he's alright. You don't have to be scared for him, Bren. Booth's smart, and I think he just needed to get away for awhile…to work through everything that's happened."

Brennan closed her eyes tightly, fingers curling tightly around the shirt in her hands.

After a moment, Angela added gently, "Stay for a little while longer. Jack and I have both loved having you, and I think it'll be good for you."

Swallowing, Brennan shook her head and replied as evenly as she could, "Ange, your due date is in a few weeks. You don't need me here causing you stress."

"I'll be less stressed if you're _here_, Bren, where I can keep an eye on you."

"You don't have to do that," Brennan replied, zipping her bag and finally turning around to give Angela a small, forced smile. "But I really appreciate you letting me stay." To Angela's surprised, Brennan hugged her quickly, then asked, "Can you give me a ride?"

"No, I can't, actually." Angela said stubbornly.

Pulling back, Brennan shrugged and lifted her bags. "Fine, I'll call a cab."

She was halfway down the hall before Angela called after her. "Wait…" The artist sighed, shaking her head. "Let me get my keys."

~(B*B)~

The morning after Jared caught him attempting to leave the house, Booth came downstairs to find his younger brother waiting for him.

"Why aren't you at work?" Booth asked, instantly suspicious.

"Going in late today," Jared answered, then grinned. "I figure you've had enough time to sit on your ass doing nothing. Got a little project for you."

"Wasn't aware I was at camp," Booth replied dryly, but he followed his brother outside anyway.

They walked through the yard and into what looked like an unattached garage, far off the yard. Booth entered and instantly his mouth dropped. "Is that-"

"1967 GT500 Mustang. Yeah." Jared smiled. "I thought I might need a little project during unemployment, you know, but I got about halfway through restoring the thing before I found a job."

They grinned at each other; Pops had gotten them in restoring vintage cars pretty young, though it had been years since Booth had indulged in the hobby.

"You saying you don't want to do this yourself?"

"I'm saying I don't have time. The job's pretty demanding, plus I'm a married man. Actually…" Jared smiled. "We're thinking about starting trying soon. You know…for a kid."

"Wow…" Booth's grin flickered momentarily, but he forced it back as he slapped his brother's hand. "Big step."

"Who'd have thought, right?" Jared said good naturedly, inadvertently naming Booth's exact thoughts.

It was something that had continually struck him over the course of the past week and a half. Jared and Padme had such an easy, comfortable relationship. His brother was suddenly every inch the devoted husband, and as happy as Booth was for him, he was equally jealous.

He'd never thought Jared would beat him to that role.

"Anyway…" Jared waved a hand vaguely at the car. "Thought maybe it would keep you busy. Keep your mind off things."

Booth was nodding slowly, walking around the car and studying it carefully. He had to admit, Jared's idea was a good one; there was a spark of excitement in Booth's chest that felt absolutely foreign.

"Thanks, Jared."

~(B*B)~

She was only a few feet from her car when a hand landed on her shoulder. Tensing instantly, she jerked away and spun, clenching one fist in front of her in an instinctual, though mostly useless, fighting stance.

Brennan blinked at her confusedly. "Sorry?"

Hannah deflated, flushing slightly. "No, I'm sorry. Just, you know…" She laughed a little. "Last time someone grabbed my arm out here the other one was coming at me with chloroform."

"Right," Brennan said awkwardly.

After a pause, Hannah smiled at her. "Anyway. How are you?"

"Fine," Brennan relied automatically. "I was just wondering if you'd heard from Booth."

At the mention of his name, Hannah sighed. "I guess you know I moved out?"

"Yeah, but I mean…since then. In the last two weeks or so?"

Her eyebrows drawing together, Hannah shook her head. "No. I haven't talked to him since I left. Why, did he…say something to you?"

"He took a leave of absence from work," Brennan informed her bluntly. "To go out of town."

Surprisingly, Hannah didn't seem shocked. "Yeah, well, that's probably good. Maybe it'll stop him from living at a bar."

Hannah started around her car, preparing to leave, but Brennan felt a sudden surge of anger, and she heard herself saying, "So you knew he was drinking?"

Laughing humorlessly, she reminded Brennan, "I was _living_ with him, Temperance."

"So you just left him on his own? The minute things got difficult with him, you decided you couldn't handle it, just because he was drinking? Even though you knew there might be a problem, you didn't try to help him? Instead, you just gave up on him, didn't even tell anyone else?"

For a moment, Hannah looked startled at the venom in the other woman's tone; Brennan had never spoken to her like that before. Then, eyes narrowing, Hannah said, "He was going over to Hodgins' place every night, trying to see you. It wasn't as though he was cut off from the world."

Brennan's throat narrowed, her own guilt at the way they'd all cut Booth out returning rapidly.

Her tone softening as she took in the distressed expression on Brennan's face, Hannah told her quietly, "And I didn't leave Seeley because of the drinking."

Not meeting Hannah's eyes, Brennan murmured, "Then why?"

"Because he was obviously in love with you."

Brennan lifted her head, eyes hardening. "You're wrong…"

"I don't think I am. He was miserable, Temperance. He'd been miserable since the moment I got back to the lab without you…and that didn't change. He was screaming your name in nightmares, coming home in the middle of the night drunk. I didn't make him happy. And I just knew."

"Knew what?"

"That he needed you."

Eyes stinging again, Brennan looked away, shaking her head hard. "No, Booth…Booth doesn't need me. He said so himself."

This was news to Hannah, but she only shrugged. "He says stupid things sometimes. All men do. But he couldn't hide it. " She forced a smile. "You were wrong down there, Temperance. I asked him once who he would have chosen, and he wouldn't say." She opened her car door and added just before ducking into it, "Seems if I was the answer to that question, he wouldn't mind telling me. Don't you think?"

~(B*B)~

For the next week or so, Booth dedicated his energies to the car. In spite of his insistences that he had no time, Jared joined him a few evenings, the two of them settling into an easy rhythm in the work.

Booth was starting to feel calmer, more controlled. He still woke to nightmares every night, but instead of getting up and heading to a bar, he lay in the dark, forcing away thoughts of Bones with thoughts of Jared, his two year sobriety chip and his offer of an AA meeting, or the memories of his father and everything Booth didn't want to be.

One morning, when he'd been there just under three weeks, Booth was downstairs before Jared and Padme had left for work, showered and fully dressed.

"You're up early," Jared noted, then swept his gaze over the suit Booth was wearing. "Hope you aren't planning on working in the garage like that."

"Nah, I'm heading over to Quantico, see an old buddy of mine who transferred there a few years back. He's gonna show me around the place, and then grab some lunch."

"Cool deal," Jared replied. "It's only about a ten minute drive for you."

"Yeah, I looked it up last night."

Jared grabbed his keys and headed for the door. "Have fun with that, Seel." He grinned. "Call me if you get lost."

~(B*B)~

"So what brings you this way, Seel?" Alex Winters asked as the waitress set plates in front of them. "You got a case nearby?"

"Nah, just visiting my brother for a few days," Booth said, a half truth. "I had a few vacation days, and he and his wife moved nearby last summer. Hadn't seen the place yet."

"Good deal."

They were eating lunch at a small place that reminded Booth eerily of the Royal diner, so much so that a strange pang of homesickness hit him when he first walked in.

"Heard you were back with the army for awhile."

Booth nodded, "Did a seven month stint in Afghanistan. Training, mostly."

"You like that?"

Booth raised a brow. "Afghanistan?"

Alex shook his head. "The training."

"Oh…" Booth paused, considering it. "Yeah, I did, actually."

"Not surprised, former sergeant and all." Alex smiled. "You'd do well at Quantico."

Laughing a little, Booth asked, "What do you mean?"

"Training agents. I thought I'd miss the cases, but I love this stuff. You probably would, too."

"No way, I…I think I'm just more of a field guy."

"That's what I thought," Alex countered, giving him a look. "You can't tell me you don't get sick of it. That feeling of powerlessness. Knowing that even if you solve every homicide you're given, it doesn't change the fact that they keep happening? Knowing you'll never get justice for everyone?"

Booth thought of Greg Thomas, that hatred in his face when he'd looked at Booth. He thought of that man killing himself. He thought of everything he'd done to Bones, all for revenge on Booth just for doing his job.

He thought of Bones' statement, the way she nearly died just for being his partner.

"Yeah. I guess I do get tired of it."

~(B*B)~

Brennan had been staring at the file in front of her for several minutes without taking in a word.

Work days had become increasingly tedious lately. With her due date so close, Angela was home on her actual maternity leave, which meant that Hodgins was popping in and out whenever they didn't have a pressing case.

Between their absence and Booth's, it was starting to feel like an even lonelier version of the months leading up to her kidnapping.

Except now, it was much worse. Because instead of merely feeling hurt and unwanted by Booth, Brennan was constantly worried about him. It was the not knowing that scared her: not knowing where he was, how he was doing or, most importantly, when he was coming back.

She hadn't stopped calling, or emailing, or visiting the Hoover to see if Booth had checked in with anyone. So far, it had all been useless.

"Bones!"

For a second, hearing the nickname, Brennan's heart stopped, even though the voice was much too high to belong to her partner.

Brennan looked up to find Parker standing in her doorway, beaming. "Parker. Hi."

He skidded further into the room, coming to lean on her desk. "I haven't seen you in a really long time, Bones."

"I know," she replied, ignoring the dull pang in her chest as she realized that it had, in fact, been months. "It's good to see you….who brought you here?"

"Science club started up again," The boy told her casually, picking up one of the artifacts on her desk and studying it. "And we got out early. Dad said if that ever happened I should come wait for Mom with you, even if he isn't here."

"That was smart of him," Brennan answered, smiling at him.

"Yeah. And it's cool cause I haven't seen you." He grinned. "I wanna come back to the pool again!"

"You're welcome anytime."

"Cool. Last time was _so_ fun, with the diving contest."

"Which you cheated in," Brennan teased him.

Parker laughed. "Nuh-_uh_, Bones, we never said no backwards dives." His eyes lit up suddenly. "Maybe when my dad gets back we can come over and swim?"

Something flared in Brennan's chest. She'd never called Rebecca, because of Booth's comment about his ex cutting him off from Parker…yet Parker clearly knew Booth was out of town. "That sounds like fun…." She paused, choosing words carefully. "Do you know _when_ he'll be back?"

Shrugging, Parker told her, "Mom said he doesn't know. She said he and Uncle Jared haven't seen each other in awhile and they're probably having fun."

Brennan closed her eyes briefly, feeling lightheaded and dizzy with relief.

Jared's.

She should have thought of that.

Brennan fumbled for her phone, and her finger was poised to call him when she froze, deciding that if Booth was so determined to avoid her, he would have warned Jared not to tell her where he lived.

Ten minutes later, after Rebecca had collected Parker (and look at Brennan with a sympathetic expression that suggested she knew more about Booth's absence than Brennan had assumed), Brennan had done some quick internet searching and had an address in her hand.

She was supposed to have dinner with her father that night (thanks to Max's spontaneous invitation that Brennan suspected had something to do with Angela), but after that, she could leave.

She'd finally found Booth.

~(B*B)~

It was nearly ten o clock that night when Jared, fresh from a shower, wandered into the living room to find his wife sitting on the couch, watching television . "You seen Seeley?"

Padme glanced out the window. "I think he's still in the garage."

"Weird…" Jared frowned. Booth had gotten back only a few hours ago, and hadn't done much talking before changing clothes and heading out to the garage.

Pulling on a jacket, Jared headed outside toward his brother.

Jared walked into the building and didn't immediately see Seeley. After a moment though, he caught of glimpse of his legs, sticking out from under the car. "Hey."

There was a pause in the light clanging of tools, and then Booth replied, "Hey."

"You're getting kind of addicted to this, huh? Can't even go a day without it…" When Booth didn't reply, Jared tried, "How's your Quantico friend?"

"He was good." Booth answered, his voice echoing from under the car. "It was good to see him."

"How come you were back so late?" Jared asked. "I thought you were just doing the lunch thing."

There was another pause. "Uh, I actually ended up sitting in on a training session at the shooting range…and then I met his boss, and he, uh, took me to dinner."

"The boss?"

"Yeah. I mean, Alex came, too." Slowly, Booth rolled out from the car and stood up. "He offered me a job."

"A job?" Jared repeated incredulously. "You said no, right?"

"Why?" Booth attempted a smile. "You don't want me any closer than I already am?"

Jared didn't smile. "What about Parker?"

"Half an hour away, I can see him as much as I have been. I don't mind driving to pick him up every other weekend. That's nothing."

Still, Jared's expression was stony. "Since when do you want to train agents?"

"God, I don't know…maybe since being an agent nearly got my partner killed. Because of _me_, and because of my job."

"That's not you, Seeley," Jared insisted quietly.

"So what? I'm not me anymore, Jared. I…I don't even recognize myself lately. I think I _need _a change. I need to start over."

"What about Tempe?"

Booth sighed. "She's actually a big part of it. This way…she can be okay. All I do is hurt her."

"Yeah no kidding," Jared shot back, and suddenly his voice wasn't quiet anymore.

Booth's eyes flashed. "What's that mean?"

"That's really fucking hypocritical of you, Seeley. All you've done since you got here is whined about how you left her behind for five months. Now you want to make that permanent?" Jared made a scoffing sound. "Maybe she was right. You _don't_ care about her."

In an instant Booth had a fist clenched around his brothers jacket, a fist raised, but Jared wrenched away. "Nice temper, Seeley. Maybe you are like dad after all."

"Take that back," Booth spat through clenched teeth, advancing on his brother again.

Jared ignored him. "I have no problem with you staying here. I think it was probably a good move. But the fact that you can't even bother to call her…"

"You don't know what you're fucking talking about. And stop acting like you care so much about Bones."

"I do, actually." Jared met his eyes, challengingly. "You don't have a monopoly on screwing up and making mistakes, Seeley. You know that. That used to be my whole life, and the fact that it's not anymore is mainly thanks to two women. One of them's my wife now, and the other one's your partner."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When you were kidnapped…I had about five seconds between finding out it happened and her demanding I break the law. I told her it was illegal, told her I couldn't do it. I was a selfish asshole, Seeley, and I'm not proud of that.

"But she laid into me. Called me out on being a coward, told me I didn't deserve you. Made it completely obvious how selfish I was." He smiled humorlessly. "First decent thing I'd done in years and it got me fired. But my brother lived, and getting fired was the only reason I met Padme. And Temperance, she was the one who made that happen. She wasn't giving up on you, no matter what, and she reminded me that you'd never turned your back on me." He shook his head. "So why are you turning your back on her?"

"She's better off," Booth answered, his voice low. "You don't get it."

"I think you're the one who doesn't get it."

Angry, frustrated, Booth turned and stalked out of the barn. So much for the idea that his brother wouldn't think less of him.

He was almost back to the house when he stopped dead in his tracks. Someone was walking up to the front door, and though his first instinct was to run, his legs were paralyzed beneath him.

Slowly, she turned to stare at him, relief breaking across her features as their eyes locked.

"Bones?"

_So that's all for that one. Again, thanks for sticking with me and keep reading. Please let me know what you thought of everything, I love hearing from you guys. Hope to post soon…enjoy Thursday's episode….seriously, how amazing was the promo? My angst loving self is thrilled beyond belief, even as my heart prepares to be thoroughly crushed by Brennan/Emily. _


	13. For Blue Skies

_Author's Note: Hey, all! Welcome back, to those I didn't lose. So sorry for the delay…I completely overestimated my ability to be efficient during finals. I am now on day two of winter break, and I'm planning to wrap this fic up (only a few more chapters!) fairly quickly, since I have lots of time to write now. Relief, right? As always, reviews are the best motivation, and you guys are fantastic. Thanks for sticking it out!_

_Also, just a couple of things. You should check out "Show Me What I'm Looking For", a fantastic fic by my amazing beta, biba79. It's great post-Hannah season six stuff. A good mix of angst (which you obviously love if you're reading here) and fluff (for those of you becoming emotionally exhausted by the heartcrushing angst that is this season). So lots of great stuff there, it's seriously addicting, nad the kind of plot we'd love to see on the show (BELIEVE me). Also, for a more shameless plug, I've posted my Christmas fic. More info at the close of this chapter, but just know it's post-609, Bones meets It's A Wonderful Life, and is short and mostly completed (so no worries about me neglecting this fic). LINKS FOR BOTH AT THE BOTTOM_

_I'm done rambling. Song if "For Blue Skies" by Strays Don't Sleep. Fantastic. Enjoy!_

Chapter Twelve

_It's been a long year since we last spoke  
How's your halo  
Just between you and I  
You and me and the satelites  
I never believed you  
I only wanted to  
Before all this what did I miss?  
Do you ever get homesick?_

_I can't get used to it  
I can't get used to it  
I'll never get used to it  
I'll never get used to it_

"Bones?"

Saying her name was a reflex, and Booth's voice was rough and uneven.

"Booth…" His name was a sigh of relief on her lips, and she took a few tentative steps toward him then stopped uncertainly.

They were a good fifteen feet apart; Brennan hovered on the front walk, while Booth was stock still in the yard.

Booth was shaking. As the shock of seeing her began to wear off, panic tightened in his chest.

She wasn't supposed to show up here.

The silence stretched between them an uncomfortably long time. Brennan nearly spoke a few times, but the look on Booth's face made her wait; he looked ready to bolt at any moment, and she didn't think she could take another desertion.

"Tempe?"

Booth turned, startled, and Brennan's gaze slid away from him for the first time to notice that Jared had walked up behind them.

Unlike his older brother, Jared smiled at her in delight, pushing past Booth and coming to hug her. "I didn't know you were coming!"

"Neither did I," Brennan replied, smiling quickly at Jared before returning her searching glance to Booth.

"You staying the night?"

"Oh, um…it's not a long drive, and I don't want to impose-"

"It's no big deal, it's late already…I can make up the couch bed-"

"It's really not necessary…."

Jared glanced back at Booth, who was staring dazedly as their conversation buzzed around him. "Why don't you let me know, okay?"

Brennan nodded, casting a nervous glance at Booth, who was looking even paler at the mention of her staying.

"I'll give you two some time to catch up," Jared smirked a little, raising a pointed eyebrow in his brother's direction and muttering, "Pick your jaw up off the ground, Seeley," before disappearing into the house and leaving them alone.

For another moment, silence reigned. Then, Brennan ventured, "Hi."

Booth put all his effort into managing a clumsy, halfhearted smile. "Hey."

Another pause. Then, Brennan assured him quickly, "I don't really have to stay the night-"

He just nodded vaguely, eyes on the ground, not ready yet to insist it didn't matter.

Her throat constricting painfully, Brennan kept her eyes on Booth's bowed head, as though she could will him to look at her with only the sheer force of her gaze.

After yet another moment of the silence thickening between them, Brennan murmured quietly, "You want to run in the house and get away from me, don't you?"

"No," Booth answered, too fast. He lifted his eyes briefly. "Well, a little. It's not because of you though." Brennan pressed her lips together, looking away, and Booth felt shame tighten his gut.

He forced his feet forward a few more steps closer to her so he could soften his voice. "Bones, hey." He waited until she met his eyes, hurt swirling in her own. "I just…I don't know what to say, I…wasn't expecting to see you."

"I've been calling," Brennan stated in reply.

There was no animosity or accusation in her tone, just heavy exhaustion, and it made Booth wince. "I, um…I didn't know what to say then either," he managed lamely. "How'd you find me?"

"Parker," she said flatly, and suddenly her eyes flashed then narrowed. "If he hadn't gotten out of science club early and come to my office, like _you told him to_, I'd still be trying to find you. I've been worried, Booth, I, I didn't know where you were, or if you were coming back or if you were okay…" Her words tangled in her throat, and for a moment Brennan just glared at him, her breathing harsh. Inhaling shakily, she finally said, "_Are_ you okay?"

"Yeah," he replied earnestly, his insides beginning to relax. "Yeah, Bones, I am. I…I think I am." He paused, hesitating, then added, "It's been over a week since I drank."

The second the words were out of his mouth, Booth felt the heat rising to his face, embarrassment swelling over the fact that _this_ was a point of pride.

But Brennan was smiling, a small smile, but one that chased away some of the fear from her eyes. "That's really good."

"It's not much," he mumbled.

Brennan waited, but once again Booth seemed to shut down, shifting his weight, squinting up at the dark sky. She sighed, unsure of what to do now; she'd been so focused on finding him, she hadn't considered what to do once she was in front of him.

After what seemed like an eternity, his voice floated to her, so quiet it didn't even seem to come from Booth. "I missed you."

Their eyes met.

"Me, too," Brennan said softly. "For a long time."

Booth flinched, not missing the implication. "I know. I'm sorry I lied to you about…coming here. I just…I had to get away, you know? And I just thought…if I talked to you…"

He was having trouble articulating his thought process, but before Booth could finish, Brennan asked him tentatively, her eyes wide and hurt, "You're that mad at me?"

That was the last thing he expected to hear. "What? Bones, that's…how can you think that?" He walked closer to her, slowly closing the gap between them. "After everything that's happened, how can you possibly think…I still don't understand how you aren't furious with me?"

She didn't even hesitate. "Because I hurt you first."

Just like that, his heart turned over, all the fear and panic draining out of Booth. Booth forgot, sometimes, that for all Bones' genius, the logic that drove her could be heartbreakingly childlike at times.

She'd hurt him first. So, in Brennan's mind, she deserved whatever she got. The motivations, the varying degrees of hurt, time frame, circumstances…none of it came into play for her.

All that mattered to her was that she'd hurt Booth. So when he began hurting her back, again and again, without seeming to notice…she just took it.

"Bones…" His voice was heavy, words tangling in his throat. He looked at Brennan helplessly and then finally nodded toward the porch. "C'mere."

Slightly wary, Brennan followed Booth up the front walk, slowing slightly until he sat down on the steps of the front porch and looked up at him, his expression open and expectant.

Brennan sank down beside him, one step down. She cast a quick glance at Booth, whose expression suggested he was deep in thought, choosing his words carefully.

There was a long silence before Booth finally began speaking. "It…it did hurt. But…it's not any excuse for what I…what I did to you was worse." Brennan looked like she might protest but Booth cut her off gently, "Please just…just listen. It _was_. I was so selfish, Bones, I…I cut you off completely. A year ago, you know, we were best friends. More than that, we were family. I…I had no right to throw all that away just because you didn't give me the answer I wanted to hear. I made a conscious, selfish decision when we go back. That was all on me. You couldn't help that you didn't feel the same way, Bones, but what I did…it _was_ my fault. And I'm so, so sorry for that."

As he talked, Brennan stared at him, her expression calculating, so that Booth could tell she was really considering what he was saying. By the end though, her expression was torn, and for the first time since sitting down she looked away.

For a moment, Booth watched her, nervous when she didn't say anything. When he was about to continue, try to explain himself better, Brennan barely whispered, "I never said that."

Instantly, Booth's throat narrowed, trapping any words he had. He cleared his throat several times, finally managing a strangled, "Never said…."

Brennan ducked her head; even in the darkness, he could see the flush of her cheeks. "I never said…I didn't feel…" Her voice faltered. "I messed up, Booth. I was scared, I…I thought I wouldn't be…enough for you or…"

He could hear in Bones' voice how hard this was for her to say, and he wordlessly reached out and grabbed her hand, hoping she wouldn't be able to feel his own shaking.

At the touch, Brennan relaxed slightly, her fingers tightening over his."...I thought I wouldn't be what you wanted and…romantic relationships…in my experience, they're much more fragile and typically short lived…" With great effort, she dragged her gaze to meet his. "I thought I would lose you. It doesn't mean I didn't…feel the same way about you."

Booth's heart had stuttered to a stop, the admission ringing in his ears. He was bogged down in the syntax, the multiple negatives, the change in tense, second guessing whether it meant what he thought…

"I should have trusted you…," Brennan said in a low voice. "In the end I…I lost you anyway."

All the questions swirling in his mind took a backseat immediately, and Booth closed his eyes. "You shouldn't have. That was my fault, Bones. Just like what happened to you with Greg Thomas was my fault…"

Brennan sighed. "Booth, blaming yourself for that is ridiculous. It's not logical, and it doesn't do you any good."

"It's a fact, Bones," he countered quietly. "You know that. Look, the reason I didn't tell you I was leaving or, or answer your calls…it's not because I'm mad at you. You haven't done anything wrong, Bones, I promise. It's just…the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you anymore than I already had. I was a mess, Bones, and I didn't know how I was going to be okay, and I didn't want you to have to deal with that…"

Peering up at him, Brennan prompted hesitantly, "And now?"

"Now…" Booth trailed off, guilt coiling around his gut. He thought of his potential transfer. He thought of Jared's angry assertion that it was just another way of abandoning her. Finally, as honest as he could let himself be, Booth said simply, "Now I'm glad you're here." Half smiling, Booth opened his arm, and for some reason the simple gesture made Brennan's eyes well with tears, and she leaned gratefully against him, allowing Booth to securely wrap her in a sideways hug.

To Brennan's surprise, he brushed his lips briefly against her hairline, keeping his head ducked close as he whispered, "Thank you for finding me."

Closing her eyes, savoring the warmth and comfort of him, Brennan murmured, "I had to."

She meant it, too. There had never been a choice in the matter. Since he'd left, Brennan had been able to focus on little else, and once she found out Booth's location, there had never been a single moment of consideration.

It was just a given, that she would go to where he was.

"I know." They stayed like that for a long time, Booth's arm around Brennan, her head tucked against his shoulder. Booth inhaled slowly, the familiar scent of her air filling him, soothing.

In that moment, he wondered how he'd ever thought anything but Bones could heal him.

It was Booth, eventually, who pulled back, though he did so reluctantly. He smiled at her, almost shyly, before saying, "I'd really like it if you'd stay here tonight, Bones."

She didn't even hesitate. "Okay."

A smile split across Booth's features. "Really?"

Brennan returned it. "Yes, if you want."

"I do." Booth stood, offering her a hand as Brennan did the same. "You can have the guest room, though, I'm good on the couch." Brennan opened her mouth, clearly gearing up for an argument, but Booth grinned at her and held out his hand. "You won't change my mind, Bones. Dibs on the couch, okay?"

"I don't know what that means."

They entered the house, and though the house was quiet, Jared had made up the pullout bed on the couch, and Booth couldn't help but smile a little to himself.

His brother did have some faith in him, still…enough to think Booth wouldn't drive Brennan away.

~(B*B)~

Brennan lay in bed a few hours later, a feeling of calm settling over her that she hadn't felt in so long.

She was surprised by how comforting it was just to know Booth was downstairs, and that he was okay. His scent clung to the pillows of the guest bed, a very welcome reminder.

In the weeks since he'd been gone, Brennan had slept very little, kept awake by her own useless worrying and positing scenarios about where Booth was and how he was doing…and, if she was being honest with herself, why he was so intent on avoiding her.

She'd been afraid to ask when he was coming back; the fact that he'd been so open with her, even asked her to stay, had been more than she'd allowed herself to hope for.

Still, Brennan couldn't help the quietly growing hope that he would go back to DC with her tomorrow.

She wasn't sure how long, exactly, she'd been asleep when the soft creak of a door, and the sliver of light flooding into the room, woke Brennan up again.

Blearily, she sat up, momentarily disoriented by her strange surroundings. Then, squinting at the opening, she recognized the figure silhouetted there. "Booth?"

"I….sorry," Booth sounded embarrassed. "I woke you up. God. Sorry. I just…wanted to make sure you're okay. But I'll go."

"Booth?" Her voice stopped him, but Brennan hesitated before continuing. She wanted to ask him if everything was alright, but something told her that Booth, in typical alpha male fashion, would assure her that he was and apologize a few more times before leaving. So instead she said, "Could you, um…come in for a few minutes?"

Booth was instantly on the alert, pushing his way into the room and approaching the bed. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Need something?"

She shook her head wordlessly, waiting until Booth gingerly took a seat at the edge of the bed. "I'm okay." Peering at him, she asked, "Couldn't sleep?"

Booth shook his head slightly, agitated. "I could sleep just…" He laughed once, hollowly. "It's staying asleep that's the problem."

Brennan was quiet. She wasn't good, at prying out information and interpreting silences. She thought, suddenly, of her recent conversation with Hannah, the blonde's revelation that Booth screamed for Brennan in the middle of the night, thrashing with nightmares. She opened her mouth, intending to ask him outright about it, but instead Brennan heard herself saying, "I know what you mean. I have nightmares, sometimes, and find myself with the same problem."

Booth gave her a long, searching look. "Nightmares about Greg Thomas?"

"Not specifically, but…they have increased in frequency since then," she admitted.

His face crumpled, shoulders sagging. "God, Bones, I…I'm so sorry. I am _so_ damn sorry that happened to you."

Something flared in Brennan's chest, with a ferocity that took her by surprise. Suddenly, with great purpose, she crawled forward in the bed and touched her fingers to Booth's face, making him look at her. "Booth. I _do not_ blame you. You have to know that." Her voice was fierce, her gaze intense, but Booth felt Brennan's fingers trembling slightly as she added, "_Please_ understand."

"Okay," he said quietly, not because he was absolving himself from blame, but because he didn't want her worrying about him. "I know."

Relaxing slightly, Brennan pulled back a little. "I only said that so you would know it's nothing to be ashamed of. And it's not uncommon. Merely the release of neurotransmitters-"

"Yeah, okay," Booth broke in, gently cutting off the science speak. "I've been having nightmares. Ever since it happened, but especially since I read that file-"

Wincing slightly, Brennan's eyes flitted away from his. "I wish you hadn't done that."

"I know. Sorry, again." An awkward silence hung between them for a moment, then Booth stood up. "Well…goodnight."

"Night," Brennan replied automatically, watching him manage a clumsy smile and turn to walk away. He had a hand on the doorknob when she stopped him, "Booth?" He turned, and Brennan found herself biting back the childish urge to ask him to stay. What she said instead was, "I really am okay."

Booth felt himself nodding. "Good."

He shut the door softly behind him, wondering if he could honestly say the same for himself yet.

~(B*B)~

"So this is what you've been doing all this time?"

Booth nodded eagerly, carefully watching Brennan's expression as she circled the car. "For the past week or so, yeah. It was pretty awesome of Jared, really. Pops showed us how to do a lot of it when we were younger. He always had a project going, and helping out got to be a pretty major stress reliever for me."

Brennan stopped pacing momentarily, raising an eyebrow at him. "I know. I remember."

"Right." Booth felt himself flushing slightly. He'd told her that before, of course. All his stories, his good and bad history…all of that belonged to Bones, too.

He'd never had that with Hannah.

Circling the car, Booth came up beside her and playfully bumped his shoulder against hers. "I could show you how, if you want. Some of it."

Again, she arched an eyebrow at him, eyes flashing challengingly. "_Some_?"

A laugh rose out of him, a strange but welcome sound. "Okay, fine. All of it." Excitement began to bubble in Booth's gut, as he genuinely warmed to the idea. "No, seriously. You've got a few more weeks before you're cleared for work, right? We could stay here, you could help me finish it up…"

When she looked up at him, Brennan had a strange, frozen sort of smile on her face. "Um, I'm not cleared for field work. I've still got obligations at the lab. Plus I don't know if Jared's up for an extra long term houseguest."

"Right…" Booth said, his excitement deflating. It would have been too easy, away from work and decisions about work, away from danger...but it wasn't really possible. Hiding away with Bones wouldn't make what had happened between them back home less real.

"So, you, um...you're staying here until you finish the car?" Brennan asked finally. "I mean…when are you going back to work?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Booth attempted to construct a casual tone, as though he'd simply never considered the matter. "I didn't give them a specific time."

He'd woken up this morning with a voicemail from Alex he'd yet to listen to. Now that Bones was here, in front of him, Booth never wanted her to leave. Thinking like that, the idea of a transfer seemed impossible.

But the idea of returning to DC, resuming his life, all the wreckage he still hadn't dealt with…that was equally impossible.

Eyes darkening, Brennan nodded once, curtly, disappointment casting a shadow over her expression. "Of course."

Booth's face fell at the imperceptible change in Brennan's mood. Scrambling to recover, he blurted out, "You could stay for a few more days, at least?" He patted the car, smiling. "Get a few lessons?"

Looking at him, the desperate hope lighting his eyes, Brennan couldn't help but smile back, just a little. "That could maybe be arranged."

"Great!" Booth exclaimed with unnecessary enthusiasm. "I'm sure Jared won't mind, and I'm fine on the couch."

"I'll have to talk to Cam…"

"She won't care." Booth could say that much, at least, with confidence. "It'll be good." He nudged Brennan's shoulder with his own again before nodding in the direction of the house. "Let's go get some breakfast."

~(B*B)~

Jared and Padme, as a rule, liked to sleep in on Saturdays, and Booth and Brennan had gotten up early to see the car.

So when he came downstairs with his wife, Jared found his brother happily moving around the kitchen, carefully distributing pancakes onto four plates, while Brennan fiddled with a coffee maker.

"Morning," Jared said, his surprise evident in his tone. "This is…unexpected."

"Shut up and eat it," Booth said, though good naturedly, as he set plates on the table. "Don't question the good fortune."

"I was more surprised by the good moods," Jared retorted, his eyes moving to Brennan. "Padme, you remember Seeley's partner?"

While the women exchanged greetings, Jared raised his eyebrows at Booth, who just shrugged and smiled a little sheepishly.

The second the four of them were seated at the table, Jared, never one for subtlety, announced, "So it's safe to assume Seeley finally managed a syllable or two last night."

"_Jared_…" Booth gritted out.

Brennan, though, just smiled. "He did. Thanks for letting me stay the night."

Swallowing, Jared shook his head. "No problem. I'm just glad you got here when you did. I knew that transfer was bullshit."

Booth froze, giving Jared a wild, wide-eyed look of warning that was seconds too late. Brennan, too, had gone completely still, her eyes slowly moving to Booth's, panic evident. "Transfer?"

Jared screwed his eyes shut and muttered, "Shit." If it wasn't for the nausea gripping him, Booth might have found an odd comfort in the fact that, in spite of his new mature persona, Jared still had the ability to be a foot in the mouth screw up.

"What transfer?" Brennan gritted out, her gaze mercilessly trained on Booth.

Finally, in a low voice, Booth admitted, "I was asked….about transferring to Quantico. To train agents."

"You said no, right?"

Brennan's voice was tight, and it was clear from the way she asked the question that there was only one acceptable answer. Booth stared down at the table, too cowardly to look at her as he forced out, "I haven't said anything yet."

Padme and Jared exchanged a glance. They were frozen in their seats, physically shrinking away from the tension crackling between the partners.

Her shaking hands involuntarily balled into fists, and Brennan's voice was unsteady as she asked, slightly louder, "But you're _going_ to turn them down, _right_?" There was a long, heavy silence. The pitch of her voice rising, Brennan prompted, "_Booth?_"

"I don't know yet."

The words were barely a breath, a tiny, quiet admittance directed mostly toward the table, but they carried a force.

Brennan reeled back, her face twisting, as though she'd been slapped. She stared at him for a long moment, as though waiting for some amendment, some explanation.

When none came, she stood up almost violently. "_Right_."

She was out of the kitchen, her footsteps pounding up the stairs, before Booth recovered somewhat from the shock reverberating through his body. Wide-eyed, he rounded slowly on Jared. "What did you do?"

Jared looked a little shell shocked himself. "I assumed…you seemed so much better, and she stayed, I…I thought you'd told her."

"You didn't think at _all_!" Booth shouted back. "Same old Jared, why am I surprised?"

Instantly, Jared's face hardened. "You could have fixed it easily, Seeley. You could have told her you weren't taking it."

"I won't lie to Bones, Jared," Booth practically spat.

"It shouldn't be a lie."

Booth started to retort, but then he heard footsteps again, coming down the stairs, and he ran out of the kitchen just in time to see the front door slam.

"Bones!" He was shouting her name before he was fully outside. He ran through the yard after her, catching up just as Brennan got to her car.

In a childish but instinctual move, Booth pulled the only bag Bones had out of her hand. Panting, his tone desperate, Booth rushed out, "Let me explain."

"You're _moving_, Booth? You're breaking our partnership _and_ you're moving away, yet there wasn't _any_ moment last night or this morning where you might have mentioned it?"

Booth blinked down at her. Put that way, there wasn't much defending his decision not to tell her. Instead, he protested feebly, "I don't know for sure if I'm taking it."

Bones was maybe angrier than he'd ever seen her, but when she looked up at him, there was an unmistakable sheen of tears in her eyes. "You said you aren't angry at me, yet everything you do seems to suggest the opposite!"

"It does _not_. Before I saw you, I was sure I was taking that new job. Now I don't know anymore."

"Why _not_?"

"Because I can't _fix anything_!" He was nearly shouting now. "I can only start over! _That _is how bad I screwed everything up, Bones! " Just abruptly as it had surged through him, Booth's fight drained away. "I can't fix what I did. I can't pretend it didn't happen. And I can't…I can't give you what it is you want." He paused, meeting her eyes. "What do you want, Bones?"

"_You_." The word wrenched itself from her chest before Brennan could stop it. She immediately amended, "I mean, you the way…the way it was before. With us."

Sorrow filled his dark eyes, and Booth nodded for a long time. "That's what I thought," he said softly. "We can't have that back, Bones. I want it, too, but…we can't change what happened. We could pretend, for a little while, but that won't last. Sooner or later, it'll all fall apart." Booth's voice cracked, and he looked down at Brennan almost pleadingly, begging her to understand. "Nothing scares me more than thinking it might never be the same."

"So you don't even want to try?"

"I don't know," he told her honestly. "That's why I haven't given them an answer yet."

Catching her lower lip between her teeth, Brennan looked away, eyes drifting shut.

"Stay for a few nights," Booth added suddenly, desperately. "We…we can work on the car. Talk some more…"

Brennan raised her eyes, the ache in them cutting him to the quick. Still, her tone was tinged with bitterness as she countered, "Won't that just be another way of pretending?" Before he could answer, Brennan expertly tugged the bag from his loose grip and ducked into her car. "Let me know when you figure it out."

~(B*B)~

Booth sat in the center of the yard for a good twenty minutes after Bones drove off, his fingers absently toying with blades of grass.

The choice seemed so simple. Jared had been right yesterday; if he transferred, it would hurt Bones. Plain and simple, there was no denying it. She would feel betrayed and abandoned, and Booth hated even the thought of that.

But at least then it would be over. He'd leave, and it may take Brennan some time to recover and stop missing him, but that would be the last thing she had to deal with.

Booth wanted to think he'd never hurt her like that again. But there was a time, only a year ago, when he'd have fought anyone who'd suggested he could _ever_ treat Brennan the way he had for five months. That was the time when seeing her hurting was the hardest thing in the world for him, and now he was the one hurting her.

He didn't trust himself yet. After the past few months, how could he? Booth had only recently been able to grab hold of some tiny shred of self-control and awareness…how tenuous was that grasp? What would it take to make him let go again?

Then there were the Greg Thomases of his past. Who knew how many there were, lying dormant, waiting for the moment of revenge? No way could he let Brennan be caught in the crossfire again. She'd been through enough.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over Booth, and in the next moment Jared dropped down beside him in the grass."I'm sorry," Jared told him without preamble. "You're right, I wasn't thinking. But I didn't mean to cause problems. I swear."

"I know," Booth replied dully. "'S my own fault."

They were quiet for a minute, then Jared questioned, "What are you doing?"

"I'm sitting here thinking about how it was so much easier here. With Bones, mostly, but with everything. It's like..it's not the real world. For us, I mean. It's like a timeout. Limbo."

"So what's that mean?"

"It means…it was easy here. It was easy to pretend like Bones and I were like we used to be. It was easy to get through days. It was even easier to stop drinking, after awhile." Booth paused, squinting into the sun at nothing in particular. "But that doesn't mean it'll be easy when I get back."

"Yeah…" Jared nodded thoughtfully. "But, Seel, you can't stay in limbo forever. You know that."

"But maybe I can start over." Booth glanced at his brother. "You did."

Jared laughed a little. "You've got the wrong idea, Seel. I've changed, yeah. But there's no real fresh start. Doesn't exist. I've got a past, and so does Padme…you think it's like they never happened? It isn't. It's part of us.

"You take that job in Quantico, fine. That's still not limbo, Seeley. It doesn't erase what happened. And, you know, maybe you and Tempe can't go back to what you were. But that doesn't mean you can't go forward." He laughed slightly. "Anything's better than this, right?"

"What if I'm still a mess?" Booth murmured after awhile. "What if….what if all this improvement is just me being in limbo?"

Jared shrugged. "What if it is?"

Booth lifted his head, something changing in his expression. "I have to go home."

~(B*B)~

Brennan had no idea what she was thinking, why she ended up driving directly to Angela and Hodgins' place instead of her own apartment.

But whatever the motivation, she was standing at their door, knocking on the door despite having rung the doorbell several times.

There was an unwarranted urgency to her actions that Brennan didn't understand, but before she had to contemplate it too much, the door swung open to reveal Angela, looking concerned and vaguely alarmed. "Bren, Sweetie, what is it?"

"I….Booth…." Her voice splintered around his name, and suddenly there tears rolling down Brennan's cheeks, something she'd been fighting the whole drive here.

"Hey…it's okay, come on…" Angela gently took Brennan by the crook of the elbow and led her inside. "Tell me what happened."

~(B*B)~

Less than four hours after Bones had driven away from him, Booth reentered his own apartment.

He was glad he'd had the sense to finish cleaning the place before leaving for his brothers. The sight of his destruction would have been enough to send him careening back over the edge again.

As it was, he had to draw several deep breaths at the site of empty, broken bottles piled in his trash can. Before he could stare at them too much, Booth seized the bag and took it downstairs to the dumpster, before he even turned his attention to unpacking.

For the first time in several weeks, Booth dialed his voice mail. He'd kept his phone on solely to remain accessible to Rebecca, in the event of an emergency, but he'd done his best to ignore the array of missed calls.

Bones was the bulk of them, of course. Booth moved through them, the inevitable guilt choking him. As much as he wanted to call her and grovel more, beg her to listen to him and try to understand, Booth knew he had no right.

Besides, he was too much of a coward to face her until he had an answer to the only question Bones was interested in.

He'd called Alex's boss at Quantico that morning, requesting some time to make a decision. It had taken some talking, but he'd managed to convince them he needed two weeks to "see about arrangements for his son".

Speaking of…Booth dialed Rebecca, letting her know he was back in town and hesitantly asking if he could see Parker sometime soon. To his relief, she agreed surprisingly easily, and he planned to spend the following day with his son.

Booth returned his attention to his phone log….in addition to Bones, he'd missed multiple calls from Cam, Sweets, and Hodgins, all dating back to his hospital stay. Guilt calls, most likely…but after the past month, Booth knew a bit about that.

Guilt was different than pity. If you didn't care for the person, guilt wasn't nearly so powerful.

So he called them each back, let them overcompensate for weeks of silence or tension with multiple inquiries about his health (mental and physical) and invitations to hang out.

Lunch with Hodgins. Dinner with Cam. Another lunch with Sweets.

It was all part of escaping limbo.

Angela, it seemed, was the only one who hadn't been overcome by a fit of remorse brought on by Booth's hospitalization.

He understood, of course, and was even grateful, in a strange way. Angela had made it clear throughout this entire ordeal that she firmly and unalterably on Brennan's side, and Booth was glad Bones had that.

Besides, Booth was the first person to admit he deserved the cold shoulder.

~(B*B)~

It was odd, trying to fall back into friendships. Certain bits of it - the usual conversational topics, the knowledge of each other – came back naturally, like muscle memory. But the rest of it, the former comfort and ease, could be entirely absent, and painfully out of reach.

Then, of course, there was the obvious tension brought on by what they weren't saying.

Hodgins never mentioned all the nights Booth had shown up drunk to his house. Sweets didn't bring up Booth's long absence from work. Booth never accused them of shutting him out.

And both of them seemed to be carefully _not_ talking about Brennan.

With Cam it was a little easier, because she didn't mind asking him to discuss more personal things, though there was still an uncertain distance between them. He told her about going to Jared's, but not about Bones coming. He skated through his break up with Hannah without going into details.

And he told none of them about the transfer he was considering. It didn't seem as though Brennan had said anything, either, though Booth couldn't be sure.

There was a lot they weren't saying.

He spent a few days with Parker his first week back, though, and it was always a welcome relief. There was no tension there, no pretending.

Until, that is, Parker got it in his head that they needed to go visit Bones.

"I saw her one time after science club. We _never_ see Bones anymore, Dad. She said we can come to the pool. Can we go?"

For a long moment, Booth couldn't respond, too torn between guilt at his own realization that it had, in fact, been _months_ since Brennan and Parker had seen each other (before this apparent meeting at the Jeffersonian, of course), and the inability to find an excuse.

Though he'd finally told Parker that Bones was working, the boy didn't let it drop. He was in a phase where he wanted a plan, a firm date.

"So _when_ can we go, Dad? _When_ can we go swimming with Bones?"

"I don't know, bud, I'll have to ask her."

"_When_ will you ask her?"

It was exhausting.

Still, the first week back was surprisingly…okay. He had a lot of meals with Cam, Sweets, Hodgins, or some combination of the three. One night he even ended up at Hodgins' place to watch the hockey game.

He'd been a ball of nervous energy and panic, expecting to see Bones, and had been in the house two minutes before he realized that of course she wasn't staying there anymore.

Angela seemed scarce, too, and Booth found himself hoping idly that she was with Brennan. He couldn't pretend not to enjoy the onslaught of affection from his friends, but he still didn't feel fully deserving.

~(B*B)~

Booth had been back in DC a week and a half, and was sitting in his apartment flipping through information about Quantico. He'd have to give an answer in a few days, and though it had been easier than expected being here, he didn't feel any more ready to see Bones, here, away from the happy bubble of Jared's.

And the thought of going back to work with her, risking her life, made him sick.

There was a sudden, persistent rapping on his door. Booth stood and went to answer it, expecting to see Cam or maybe one of the guys.

Instead, Angela was standing in front of him a small smile on her face that was somehow terrifying.

"Welcome home, G-man," she said sweetly, never taking a step in. "Come on, you're taking me to dinner. We have lots to talk about."

...

_Authors Note: _ _Phew. Okay. Home stretch guys. Sort of. I'm thinking two or three more chapters for this one. It's been an angsty ride that still hasn't quite let up, but I hope you're appreciating the tiny little light at the end of the tunnel._

_Now, again for the recs. Ignore the annoying lack of spaces and check out Biba's profile. Story is "Show Me What I'm Looking For." She's been such an incredible help throughout this story, I'd love if you guys checked it out._

_http:/ www. fanfiction. Net /u/ 74877/Biba79_

_Now, as for my Christmas story (Chapter one is going up right after this chapter), it's called "Every Time A Bell Rings", and as I said, it's "It's a Wonderful Life" meets a post-609 Brennan. Angsty (surprise!) but with hope, because it is Christmas. I'm really excited about this one. It's five chapters (short ones), and I'm planning on updating just about every day this week leading up to Christmas. So check that one out, too…after you review of course. _

_And thanks for putting up with the excessive wait…and the excessive rambling. You guys are awesome._


	14. Brand New Day

_Author's Note_: _Hey guys! I'm back, finally. Sorry for the delay on this one...last week was crazy getting Christmas stuff ready, plus finishing my Christmas fic in time (thanks so much to everyone who checked it out, I was thrilled with the response)_. _This week's been kind of all about catching up with people at home, but now that's done and the last week and a half of break should be much more calm. Hence, faster updates. We've got about two more chapters to go after this one, and they should be a return to the days of Fast Updates...with the right motivation of course (don't we all get tired of me doing that? heehee). Anyway, read away!_

_Oh, actually...a quick note about getting in touch with me. If you've asked questions in reviews, I do INTEND to answer them, but I tend to check a bunch of reviews at once in my email, since they all come in quick sweeps, so if I haven't gotten back to you I do apologize. If you want to talk send me a private message...I'm not the best at remembering to check those either, and if you're waiting for a response, I'm really sorry for the delay, I usually forget to go to that section and end up answering a bunch at once.  
_

_NOW read away. Song is Brand New Day by Joshua Radin. I adore his music, and this song is so perfect for this chapter. Check it out!_

Chapter Thirteen: Brand New Day

_Most kind of stories_  
_ Save the best part for last_  
_ And most stories have a hero who finds_  
_ You make your past your past_  
_ Yeah you make your past your past_

_It's a brand new day_  
_ The sun is shining_  
_ It's a brand new day_  
_ For the first time in such a long long time_  
_ I know, I'll be ok_

Booth felt like a child, caught in some act of disobedience by his parents, nervously awaiting his sentencing.

There was something intimidating about Angela's smile, the glint in her dark eyes. She made distant but polite small talk in the car, asking about Jared and Parker or throwing out suggestions for the restaurant. Booth was honestly terrified to say the wrong thing, and he kept his answers as brief as possible.

When they got to the restaurant, however, all pretense was dropped. From the second they sat down, Angela ceased the small talk. She merely studied him in silence, her expression maddeningly patient even amid the thinly veiled resentment.

Booth, though, was the opposite of calm. He was fidgeting in his seat, continually rearranging his arms and hands. The table between them felt vaguely like a principal's desk, and Booth was just waiting for the lecture to begin.

After their drinks came and they'd ordered food (the only time either of them spoke since entering the restaurant), Angela drew a deep breath, met Booth's eyes, and smiled that strange half-smile. "I think I probably owe you an apology."

Booth blinked at he, his mouth hanging open cartoonishly. That was the last thing he'd expected.

Angela continued, "I've been pretty awful about you for a pretty long time now. Said a lot of things I probably shouldn't have."

"Oh, uh…." Booth was so taken aback by this direction that he felt like being generous. "You didn't say anything that wasn't true…"

"Maybe not to your face." Angela's lips curled, but then she dropped the smile and stared at him intently. "I'm not saying you didn't deserve it, or that I didn't have a good reason, but…you were my friend, too, and I know you've been going through a rough time and…I didn't always consider your feelings."

"You were looking out for her," Booth said softly. "I'm glad you were. You were right, Ange, about everything. I…I've done nothing but hurt her for so long now, and I don't want to do that anymore."

"Good." At that, she leaned forward, her eyes flashing, and suddenly Booth's stomach clenched. Angela's expression suggested he'd walked right into a trap, and she was about to go in for the kill. "So why the hell are you actually considering this transfer?"

Booth winced, staring fixedly into his glass of water. "It's complicated."

"Try me," Angela shot back instantly, smiling sweetly at him. "Let's see if I can keep up."

For a long moment, the only sound was the ruffling of straw paper Booth twisted nervously between his fingers.

"I…I know what you're going to say." Booth spoke in a low, deliberate voice. "It's what Jared said, and I know…I know when I say that I hurt her, you're just going to say that….that me transferring is just going to hurt her more."

Angela blinked at him, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, the artist gave him a sardonic smile. "Well, you're definitely making this easy for _me_."

"Um…" Nervously, Booth rubbed the nape of his neck, his eyes darting around the restaurant like a hostage looking for an escape route. "There's more to it than that."

Honestly, at this point, there was a part of Booth that wanted Angela to launch into the big speech, the yelling and the lecture and everything else he'd expected. Instead, she widened her eyes and gave him a mock-impressed look. "Wow. Okay, I didn't know there was _more to it_. Makes complete sense now."

Booth groaned, frustrated. "I don't know what you want me to say, Angela."

At that, Angela laughed softly, though all traces of humor were suddenly absent from her expression. "I want you to _explain _yourself, Booth. If there is so much more to this decision, _explain_ it to me. I'd love to know." She leaned forward, eyes blazing. "Honestly, I'm sincerely hoping you're just an idiot, and really have no clue what you transferring would do to her."

"I-"

"Because the alternative," Angela continued, scowling at him. "-is that you're just this selfish jerk who doesn't care about her."

He bristled instantly; Angela was the second person now to suggest that he didn't care about Bones. Tersely, he replied, "You know that's not true, Angela. You _know_ that."

"Do I?" All traces of that maddening calm Angela had possessed had faded away, her emotions suddenly brimming over. "What _I _know is that she showed up at our doorstep _in tears_, after leaving Jared's. Because she drove all that way to find you, ya know, after you blew her off for dinner and left without a word? She went to find you anyway, and then you tell her you're maybe changing jobs and moving away? Oh, sorry, _Jared_ told her."

There was silence for several long moments, as Booth stared at her, and finally, he weakly repeated, "In tears?"

"Yes, Booth. And that's not, I mean, _you_ know that isn't typical. At all."

Booth fell silent, once again avoiding Angela's gaze. The waiter came by and set their food in front of them, but neither made a move to eat.

It was Angela who broke the silence, her voice quiet and fierce, "You know, Booth…for five years, I never once doubted how much you cared about Brennan, and now…you are making me doubt it. I _hate_ that, Booth, and if I'm doubting it now…she's been doubting it for _months_."

"I _know_," Booth gritted out, his voice catching. "I know that, I _know_ how I've treated her, and that's exactly _why_-"

"Oh, don't do that! Don't say that's _why_?" Her face twisted into a look of disgust. "You've hurt her for months, but you know that, and I know you two have talked about it, and I know how guilty you feel. But why the _hell_ would you want to hurt her more?"

"Listen…" There was the slightest tremor in Booth's voice, and he glared down at his untouched plate until he thought it was under control. "I…I know it'll hurt Bones if I transfer. If I move away. But at least then it will be over."

Angela narrowed her eyes at him, obviously unimpressed. "What does that mean?"

"I….I _scare_ myself, Angela!" His voice was louder than he intended, causing a few people to glance over at him. Dropping to a fierce whisper, Booth continued, "I _lost _it. The past few months, it's like…I had no control of myself, all I did was screw up. And even before that, how I was treating Bones…I _never_ would have thought I would do that to her, but I did. And for the longest time I didn't even notice. She had to almost _die_ for me to figure that out." He paused, his chest heaving, the truth of this hanging between them. Booth glanced away from Angela, that familiar self revulsion coiling tightly in his gut. "You're disappointed in me, fine. That's not even _close_ to how I feel about myself."

Booth kept his eyes on his plate, focusing on taking deep breaths. Angela didn't say anything instantly, and when he chanced a glance up at her, her eyes seemed unusually bright, though her expression was impassive.

The silence went on for longer than normal, and Booth took his first bite of food just to have something to do.

Finally, he sighed quietly. "You don't…it doesn't make any sense to you, does it?"

"No, it's, um…it isn't that." Angela's eyes softened for the first time all evening. "Booth, I've been your worst critic. For _months _now. I mean, ever since you got back."

"I know-"

"But even _I_ don't think….that after everything that's happened, you would let things get that bad again. I mean, it sucks, that it took what almost happened to Bren to make you realize what you were doing to her. But you _did_ realize it." He looked away, shaking his head slightly, and Angela reached across the table and touched his arm briefly. "Hey. I'm serious. I was there, Booth, the whole time she was missing. I saw your face, I saw how you were beating yourself up…." She smiled, just a little. "That scared the hell out of you. Enough that you're never going to do that to her again."

"Yeah, well…." Booth's voice trailed off, thinking about this. Right now, he knew it was true. But if someone had asked him a year and a half ago if he'd ever neglect Bones the way he had…he'd have told them they were insane.

That's what he meant about scaring himself. He'd turned into a guy he hadn't recognized for months before Greg Thomas…a callous, selfish bastard. And then he'd changed, yet again, in the time after, to a self-destructive, alcoholic wreck.

Who knows what might come next?

As though reading his mind, Angela sighed. "You're a good man, Booth. You went through a rough time, but you never stopped being a good guy. When she needed you, you were there. You saved her, Booth."

"And then proceeded to…ignore her."

"You were feeling guilty," Angela said quietly. "You know I think you handled things badly but…no one's perfect, Booth. You messed up, but….you can fix it, you can make up for that-"

"But what if I can't?" The words sounded tight, wrenched out of him.

Slowly, understanding dawned on Angela's face. "Booth…"

"Bones, she…she wants us to be…the way we were. And so do I, you know, when we were _so_ close, and always together, but…what if that's not possible? I mean, after everything that's happened, how can we get that back?"

To his surprise, the corner of Angela's lips quirked into a half-smile. "You're wrong." She leaned forward again, locking her gaze with his. "She doesn't want what you guys used to have. I mean, I'm sure she probably does, but really…she wants _more_."

The implications were slow sinking in, and for a moment Booth could only blink stupidly across the table. "You mean…"

"She loves you," Angela said quietly. "Even after all this."

Booth's instinct had always been to dismiss this, but instead he was quiet. He was thinking about what Hannah had said when she left him, or what Brennan had said last week on Jared's porch.

_You know, I knew she loved you the minute she explained what she'd done down there. I even… I even thought she might love you more than I did._

_I thought I would lose you. It doesn't mean I didn't…feel the same way about you._

"You think?" he asked quietly.

Angela sighed, shaking her head in a way that suggested he was idiotic for asking. "_Booth_. Of course she does. Why do you think she gave herself up to Greg Thomas _for you_? Why do you think she has missed you so much for the past seven months? Why do you think she's been so worried about you?"

While Booth blinked dumbly at Angela, she arched an eyebrow. "And why do you think it would kill her if you moved away and changed jobs?"

"But she…." Booth paused, words tangling. He was feeling oddly dizzy and lightheaded at Angela's assertion. "She doesn't want that. It's not like I blame her, but-"

"Look, Bren told me about what happened between you two last year."

At that, Booth froze, surprised. "She did?"

"It was about two months after we all came back, and I was pissed at you, and ranting about it." Angela's tone was unapologetic. "And Bren, even though she was clearly hurt, she defended you. Basically said she deserved it and I shouldn't blame you for staying away….it took some work, but I got the whole story out of her."

Flushing, Booth's eyes flicked away from hers. "I know it's not an excuse."

"You're right, it isn't, but that's not what I was going to say." Angela waited until he looked at her again. "She was _so close_, Booth. I _know_ she was. And of course I don't blame you, for telling her what you did, but…God, Booth, you know what's Bren's like. She got scared, she thought she was gonna lose you…"

Booth nodded vaguely, thinking about Brennan saying the exact thing to him last week.

"But it was one moment, you know? And from what she told me about it, she never said she didn't feel that way about you." She paused briefly, as though waiting for him to correct her, but of course he didn't. "She panicked. And you just…gave up on her."

Raising his head, Booth opened his mouth to speak, but Angela didn't give him a chance, continuing in a soft voice. "I know that's not fair. I know how hard that was for you, and how much it must have hurt you….so I know it's not fair. But you and I both know why Brennan is so terrified of being hurt and being abandoned and….what happened to her, to make her like that…._that_ isn't fair either."

Booth's chest felt tight, any words he'd been about to say sticking in his throat.

"It was one moment, Booth. One moment for her to put all that aside, and….and then you told her you were moving on. And you did." Angela shook her head slightly, her expression equal parts defiant and apologetic. "I can't…I can't be mad at you for that, I know. You have every right to…except, seeing you, that day, when she was missing…I don't think you stopped loving her. Not really. So I don't get why you didn't _fight_ for her. Why…when she basically stood there and said she didn't deserve you, why didn't you tell her she was _wrong_?"

The silence returned for a moment, and finally Booth said quietly, "You're right. I…I should've. But now…now I'm the one who doesn't deserve her."

"I don't believe that," Angela said quietly. "She _needs_ you, Booth. Bren doesn't really need anyone, but she needs _you_. And she's missed you for so long, and she's felt it was her fault for so long. And if you leave…move away from her, and break your partnership…she will _never _forgive herself for that _one_ moment."

"I've told her it wasn't her fault-"

"Yeah, but _she_ won't believe you. And, you know what, it's not even just that. She will miss you _so much_, and she'll never open herself to someone else, _ever_, and….and you two will never get your chance."

Booth looked at her, speechless, while Angela gazed knowingly back at him for a good minute and a half.

And then Angela gasped quietly, her face twisting in pain.

"What? What is it, what's wrong?" Booth demanded, startled out of the moment.

Slowly, Angela's face relaxed, and she gave a soft, incredulous laugh. "That was a contraction."

~(B*B)~

Within minutes they were hurrying outside, Booth inexplicably holding Angela's arm as though she needed guiding.

"We can turn the sirens on, we'll be at the hospital so fast, it'll be fine…."

Angela cut her eyes at him, amused. "My God, Booth, was Parker born in a car or something? We've got time…._oh_." Angela gripped his arm suddenly, groaning quietly.

Booth stared down at his watch. "We should be timing these, how long do you think that was?"

She rolled her eyes. "Long enough for you to stop freaking out. And for us to not to need sirens."

Ignoring this, Booth opened the door for Angela and helped her climb in. Before he shut the door, though, he assured her hurriedly, "I'll call Hodgins right now."

Angela waited patiently until Booth had run around the car and jumped in the driver's side before reminding him, "I can still use a phone Booth. Barely in labor over here."

Booth pulled quickly out of the parking as Angela got out her cell phone, her amusement over Booth calming her own nerves.

"Oh, hey…." Angela said slyly just before she called Hodgins. "Can you call Bren, though?"

At that, Booth gave her a look that made his face the last few minutes look meditative, and Angela laughed, lifting the phone to her ear. "Fine. But you're going to have to see her at the hospital, so….you better think really hard about what you're going to tell her."

Then her face broke into a smile as Hodgins answered. "Hey, babe. Listen, I need you to meet me at the hospital." There was a pause, and her smile widened. "Yes, I'm serious…."

Booth focused on the road, the realization that he was going to see Bones for the first time since he'd been back sinking in, as everything Angela had said swirled in his mind.

~(B*B)~

Hodgins arrived at the hospital about fifteen minutes after they did, wild eyed and excited, and Booth was glad to relinquish his role as the most freaked out person in the room.

As he was relegated to the job of getting Angela ice chips, Booth let his mind return to Bones' impending arrival at the hospital.

Last time he'd seen her, she'd been driving away from him at Jared's house, angry and betrayed. Booth had no idea how she'd approach him today, especially knowing he'd been back for over a week without calling her.

Everything Angela had said was weighing on him, and after a delivery of ice chips Booth let himself disappear for awhile, wandering the hospital gift shop and thinking.

Angela had been right, about everything. She usually was, and there was no question about it this time.

It didn't mean Booth wasn't still scared.

He spent an hour on his own before returning to Angela's private labor room (with still more ice chips), and as soon as he stepped through the doorway, he froze.

Bones was standing beside Angela's bed.

Their eyes met, and for a long moment they could only stare silently at each other.

Angela's voice broke the moment, finally. "Those for me?"

"Huh?" Booth blinked at her, reluctantly dragging his gaze from Bones'. "Oh, yeah." Dumbly, he thrust the cup of ice chips in Angela's direction, as if she could reach them from the bed. Trying not to laugh, Hodgins came forward and plucked the cup from his hands.

Something about this snapped Booth out of his panic, and he moved his eyes back to Bones, managing a quiet, "Hey."

"Hi," she replied, her tone cautious but not unfriendly.

Feeling almost shy, Booth smiled slightly at her. He could see the question in her eyes, and was grateful that she didn't ask it out loud, not yet.

Before he could think of anything else to say, a doctor pushed his way into the room. "How we doin', Angela?" She shot him a thumbs up as the doctor slid a stool close to the foot of the bed. "Let's see how much you're dilated."

"Oh…" Booth screwed up his face in distaste, and Brennan raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"It's natural, Booth, the only way to monitor the labor is to keep an eye on the rate of cervical dilation-"

"Okay, okay, okay." Angela bit back a smile as she cut off her best friend. "Thanks for the explanation, Sweetie. Why don't you guys wait outside?"

Booth and Brennan looked at each other, their eyes mirrors of panic.

"Oh…"

"Um…"

Angela waved them outside. "Out there. Go. Thank you…"

Booth was pretty sure he wasn't imagining the warning look she gave him as they moved through the door.

~(B*B)~

Together, they moved quietly to the closest waiting room. Instead of sitting, though, they turned to each other.

Everything Angela had said was still fresh in his mind, and Booth wanted to hug Brennan, suddenly. But she was standing away from him, her arms crossed tightly in front of her.

"So…" Booth winced instantly, hating himself for the cliché awkward beginning.

"So you're back," Brennan said flatly.

"Yeah, I….yeah." He shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to explain why he'd been avoiding without breaching the untouchable subject of the transfer, the decision he hadn't made.

"Are you…." Brennan stopped talking abruptly. She'd been about to ask, but the fact that he hadn't called to tell her himself logically meant she didn't want to know the answer. Instead, she said, "Angela said you drove her here..?"

"Yeah, we were, um…do you want to sit?" She nodded, and the two of them sat on the couch, keeping distance between them. "We were just out to dinner, so….just catching up."

Brennan's eyebrows lifted, surprise evident in her features. But after a moment, she smiled slightly. "That's good. That she did that."

He smiled wryly. "Yeah, I mean…I know I'm not her favorite person."

She smiled back, almost apologetic, but didn't contradict him.

Silence pulsed thickly between them for a minute, and then they both spoke at the same time.

"How's Parker?"

"Look Bones, I'm-"

They fell silent instantly, and after a beat Booth started again, "Parker's good…Rebecca and I, we talked so…I've been getting time with him and that's been really great." He paused, hesitating briefly before adding, "He keeps asking when we can come see you. To swim."

Brennan smiled instantly. "He asked me, too, after his science club meeting."

"Yeah," Booth stared down at his lap. He could feel the tension return, just like that, in the invitation that wasn't coming. Finally, he sighed quietly, "Look, Bones, I'm sorry about what happened at Jared's. I mean, I wish….it was going really well, and it was so good to see you, I wish it hadn't ended like that-"

"Me, too," Brennan said softly, her eyes on the couch

"I should've…I should have been the one to tell you, not Jared. I just…I didn't want to ruin it, you know? I was…I was scared, Bones."

At that, Brennan look up at him, studying the soft, bruised brown of his eyes. "It's okay," she told him finally.

Now was the time for her to ask, or for him to jump in and tell her. Brennan waited, but nothing happened.

There were two possible conclusions: that he hadn't decided yet, or that he'd decided to take the job and, once again, didn't want to tell her.

And Brennan was afraid to ask because she didn't want to hear it was the latter.

~(B*B)~

For the next several hours, they were careful with each other. They moved between Angela's room and, more often, the waiting room. Cam and Sweets stopped by for awhile, which was a decent distraction.

Still, Booth stayed near Brennan at all times. When they spoke, he watched her closely, nervously scrutinizing her face when she looked at him. He felt like a kid who'd been yelled, searching his parents' face for the familiar, unchanged affection.

Hours passed, and night fell. Hodgins came in and out of the delivery room, reporting the slow progress.

It was after midnight, and Cam and Sweets had let after for awhile. Booth stayed, knowing Bones would. She went in to see Angela for a few minutes, and when she returned to the waiting room, Booth followed her to the couch and sat down beside her, closer than he'd dared all night.

"Hey…" He nudged his shoulder against hers. "Nice being here for a good reason, huh?"

She smiled tightly at him, but her eyes darkened suddenly, the memory of Booth's hospitalization all too fresh. "It's a change in recent patterns, definitely."

"I know," he said quietly, misreading the memory she was considering. "That's never going to happen to you again, Bones." Booth thought, then, of Greg Thomas, a point Angela hadn't addressed at their dinner.

"I was thinking about you, actually," she told him.

"Oh…" Booth flushed slightly. "That's, um….that's not going to happen again either. I thought maybe, being back from Jared's, it would get tough again. Not drinking, I mean, but…it's been fine."

"That's really good," she said, relief evident in her voice.

Silence fell again between them, but somehow more comfortable than any that had existed so far. Several minutes passed before Brennan turned deliberately to look at him. "Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

Brennan waited until his eyes locked with hers. She swallowed hard, determined to keep her voice steady. "Don't take that job." Booth's heart caught, and for a long pause neither of them said anything. "I know I should…provide logical reasons and…supporting evidence, but I can't." Brennan drew a breath. "At Jared's I never said I didn't want you to take it. But I don't."

Sighing, Booth leaned against his arm, stretched across the back of the couch, gazing up at Brennan and smiling tiredly. "Bones…." He reached out, and ran his knuckles slowly down her arm, a poor substitute to what he still couldn't say.

He knew what he wanted to tell her. Everything Angela had said had made his decision clear, and now Bones was making it even clearer.

But there was unnamed fear lodged in his throat, stopping him from saying what he had to say.

Instead, after a long pause, what Booth said to her was, "You look tired." Disappointment flickered across her face for the briefest second. "You tired, Bones?"

~(B*B)~

Brennan had drifted to sleep on his shoulder when, after six hours of labor, Angela was wheeled off to a delivery room and, minutes later, Cam and Sweets turned up again.

They stayed like that for the next hour or so, Brennan nestled against him and Booth terrified to breathe for fear of breaking the moment. They stayed like that until Hodgins, bright eyed and nearly bursting with giddy, manic bride, came running out of the delivery room.

Reluctantly, Booth shook Brennan awake just in time to hear him declare, "It's a girl!"

Blinking blearily at him, Brennan stated flatly, "That was prior knowledge."

Hodgins just grinned wider. "I know, but it's just what you say."

Then they were all surrounding him, hugging him and slapping him on the back as he assured them that the baby was absolutely perfect and that Angela had done great.

"What's her name?" Sweets asked after a moment.

His smile actually stretching, Hodgins' glanced at Brennan and then his eyes swept the others. "You guys come meet her."

~(B*B)~

They all streamed into the hospital room, instantly falling into the hushed, cooing voices that happened around babies.

Brennan smiled instantly, moving close to her best friend and staring down at the tiny bundle in her arms. "How you feeling?"

"I'm great," Angela smiled at her, and then at the others. "Fantastic." She lowered her eyes to her daughter. "You guys…this is Brooke." She raised her eyes to meet Brennan's. "Brooklyn Temperance Hodgins, if you want to be formal."

Immediately, Brennan's heart caught. Angela had told her, months ago, that this would happen, but she'd never been sure if it was serious.

And it didn't prepare her for this.

"Really?" She breathed out.

"Really," Angela told her quietly. "You want to hold your goddaughter?"

~(B*B)~

Booth's eyes stayed on Bones. He stared, entranced, as Angela gently passed the baby to Brennan, who took her like she was made of glass.

Brennan stared down at Brooke in awe. Her eyes were shining, and her lips slowly stretched into a smile that lit her whole face.

"She's beautiful, Ange," Brennan murmured, and the others all murmured agreements, but Booth could only stare, his heart swelling in his chest at the sight in front of him.

He couldn't remember the last time he saw Brennan that happy. But it was more than that, more than the sudden need to make that smile more frequent if it was the last thing he did.

It was the sight of Brennan holding that baby, and the way it had Booth suddenly thinking about what Angela said Bones wanted.

_She wants more._

Booth used to want that, too, more than anything he'd wanted in his whole life. But for months, he trained himself not to want it, to forget he ever had. And for the last two months, he'd convinced himself he didn't deserve it, that it was out of reach forever.

But suddenly, looking at her, he _wanted_ something again. He wanted it so much.

He wanted everything with her.

Some pressure in his chest seemed to unfurl, and he felt unexpected tears stabbing his eyes, but he smiling, transfixed at the image in front of him.

When Brennan finally tore her eyes away from the baby, she looked up at him. "Booth, look."

"Yeah, I see," he whispered thickly. "I finally do."

The others were talking to Angela and Hodgins, and he barely heard any of it until Cam said laughingly, "You're never going to want to come back to work…"

"Oh, I know," Angela said. "You're going to have to drag me back…"

Then, without even thinking about it, Booth blurted out, "I guess we can make do for _awhile_, can't we Bones?"

Slowly, she lifted her head to look at him, her eyes clouded with hope and doubt and disbelief. "We?"

"Yeah," he answered softly. "Me and you."

To her embarrassment, Brennan felt tears welling in her eyes, and she laughed breathlessly. She was glad, suddenly, to have the baby in her arms, so she didn't run and throw herself at Booth in front of everyone.

~(B*B)~

Angela met her husband's eyes and he winked at her. She rolled her eyes, smiling all the while. Leave it to Booth and Brennan to make her feel like she was intruding on a private moment in her own delivery room.

The two of them were just standing there, on opposite ends of the bed, smiling goofily at each other, completely oblivious to the other occupants of the room.

Finally, looking infinitely amused, Cam asked Angela, "So when do I get a turn?"

"Oh…." Angela touched Brennan's arm gently. "Bren?"

Startled out of the moment, Brennan glanced down at her in confusion for a second before realizing what her best friend wanted. "Oh, right…." She gently passed Brooke back to her mother, who held her for a moment before letting Cam have a turn.

Brennan gently touched Angela's shoulder, her attention on her for the moment. "She's perfect, Ange. I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks, Sweetie." Angela cut her eyes at Booth. "I'm happy for you, too."

They stayed there for the next hour or so, cooing over the baby and passing her around. Brennan and Booth kept making eye contact, and instantly started smiling at each other again.

Finally, though, they started to clear out, giving them all time to sleep. As they went through the hospital door, Booth laid his hand on his usual place at the small of Brennan's back and smiled down at her. "Hey, Bones…it'll be breakfast time in a few hours. How's the diner sound?"

_A/N: Wow. I know you're all shocked that we're ending in a fairly hopeful place. Of course, they've still got a lot of work to do to work through things, and hopefully that will be interesting in the next two chapters. I'm pretty excited about next one, in particular, and it should be up soon. Please let me know what you thought, about the Angela/Booth scene, the Booth/Brennan stuff after...any and everything._

_Also, brief recomendation. My fantastic, amazing and shockingly patient beta, biba79, has another story going (I rec'd her other one, Show Me What I'm Looking For, recently, which you should also check out). It's much more angsty, and if you're reading this I can only assume you aren't opposed to that. It's also completely finished, so that means faster updates...a change from this, right? Anyway, check it out, it's called Stuck in A Moment (so like this fic, it has a U2 title)  
_

http:/ .net /s/6579347/1/ Stuck_In_A_Moment ELIMINATE SPACES OBVIOUSLY!


	15. I'm About to Come Alive

_A/N: Hey, guys! Thanks for being patient with this one….I always underestimate how busy I'll be over break…or how lazy. But I'm back at school now, and the first week is always really boring and chill. Anyway, this is the next to the last chapter (AAAH) which is always sad. But, I'm already planning my next project, which I'm really excited about, so I won't be taking any lengthy fanfic hiatuses this time around._

_Without further ado…song is "I'm About to Come Alive" by Train._

Chapter Fourteen: I'm About to Come Alive

_In every frame upon our wall  
Lies a face that's seen it all  
Through ups and downs and then more downs  
We helped each other off of the ground  
No one knows what we've been through  
Making it ain't making it without you_

_Maybe I'm not but you're all I got left to believe in  
Don't give up on me  
I'm about to come alive  
And I know that it's been hard  
And it's been a long time coming  
Don't give up on me  
I'm about to come alive_

He went with Bones to her apartment. It was a few hours before sunrise, and nothing was open for the day yet, but he didn't want to leave her.

They didn't talk much in the car, a tired, comfortable silence hanging between them. But inside, Brennan could feel her exhaustion dissipating, and she turned to Booth, cautious. "You're really staying."

"I really am," he said without hesitation. "I'm sorry it took me so long to decide. That was stupid. Of course I'm staying."

Booth didn't know who walked to whom first, but suddenly she was in his arms, holding tightly like she could stop him from slipping away again.

~(B*B)~

"I was scared. That's why I was considering the transfer, I was just…scared of having to deal with everything I did, trying to fix it…I was scared I couldn't, that I couldn't start over."

They were sitting in her apartment, on opposite ends of the couch, their feet nearly touching in the center.

"But, you know, Jared said something…he said you can't start over…you can only go forward, you know?"

"it's logical," Brennan agreed. "Given that the past is unalterable."

"Yeah, that's basically what he said." Booth smiled. He paused, waiting until she looked at him. "I don't think I could have really done it, though."

As soon as Booth said the words, he knew it was true. The possibility of the transfer had worked as its own sort of bubble, just like staying at Jared's. It meant that, even when he got back to DC, he could put off reality a little bit longer, by not quite committing to dealing with all his mistakes.

"I was a coward," Booth said softly.

"Well you didn't take it." Brennan reminded him.

"No, I didn't." Briefly, he set his hand over hers along the back of the couch. "We're going to be okay, Bones."

"I know," she agreed, smiling at him. "I know we are."

He smiled back, and they sat like that for a moment, just looking at each other. After a moment, though, Booth felt a small prickling of fear that he had no idea what to say.

Brennan finally broke the silence, "You want to go back to the hospital?"

"Yeah, definitely."

~(B*B)~

Five days later, they sat in the diner together, eating lunch. Brennan was still a few days away from being cleared for field duty, so they'd come from the Jeffersonian and Hoover to meet every day that week.

And were eating in mostly silence.

There was a stiffness in their conversation, and though meals at the diner was something they'd done together hundreds of times, Booth couldn't for the life of him remember how they'd filled those hours.

The only real conversations they'd had for months were heavy, emotionally charged ones, and if they were going to get back to normal, they had to remember how to just talk about _anything_.

"How's your dad?"

"How's Parker?"

"You go see Angela this morning?"

These were the standard questions, the 'old friends catching up' questions, and they exhausted them far too quickly.

Still, Booth was glad just to be sitting across from her, even if they were smiling at each other in silence more often than not.

He missed the ease they had, but Booth had to believe they would get there. Otherwise, that old self-hatred would take him over, a reminder that it was his own fault that they'd gotten this far.

"Dessert, Bones?" he asked brightly, breaking another lengthy silence. He gave her a teasing smile. "Want to split some apple pie?"

Immediately, Brennan's face twisted in distaste, and she frowned across the table at him. "I don't like my fruit cooked, Booth. I've told you that numerous times, did you forget in the interim?"

Booth's face froze, and in the next second Brennan realized what she'd said and flinched.

"Yeah, I…I know it's been awhile since we've done this."

"We did this yesterday," Brennan reminded him.

"No, I mean…before this week." Booth's eyes darkened, and he leaned forward on the table. "That's my fault, Bones, and I can't apologize enough for-"

"You can," she cut him off gently. "You _have_. And I didn't mean anything by that-"

"I know you didn't, but-"

"Dessert would be good," Brennan continued firmly. "Just not pie."

Booth watched her for a moment, his eyes softening, tension dissipating. "Let me guess…cheesecake?"

Her lips curled, eyes lighting up, as though it really was a surprise that Booth could remember her consistent dessert order after five years.

Smiling back, Booth waved the waitress over, and even as the silence returned, Booth took comfort in the fact that he still knew some things. He may not remember how to keep a conversation steady and simple from the beginning of a meal to dessert, but he knew what Brennan ordered when the time came.

He knew she started eating at the tip of the cheesecake, methodically working her way up. He knew the exact amount that would be left when she offered him a bite. And he knew every detail of the face she'd make when he offered her a bite of his pie in return.

These things had to mean something.

~(B*B)~

Instead of returning to the lab after lunch, Brennan went to see Angela and the baby, since it was the first day Hodgins had been back to work.

Angela lifted Brooke out of her cradle. "Hey, baby…" she cooed. "Want to go see your Auntie Bren? Yes, you do."

Brennan smiled as soon as the baby was in her arms, but said to Angela, "I thought I was her godmother."

"You are," Angela said, amused. "You can be both." They sat on the couch, and for a moment Angela watched her best friend and her daughter. "No dancing phalanges today, Sweetie?"

"She's still a bit too young to respond to the visual and auditory stimulation, Ange. There's no point."

"Interesting, because I saw you doing it yesterday."

"Maybe I was," Brennan admitted with a smile. She moved her gaze from Brooke to look at Angela. "You look tired, Ange."

She smiled wryly. "Yeah, turns out the no sleep thing isn't just a rumor."

"I can sit with her, if you want to take a nap."

Angela arched an eyebrow in her direction. "Don't you have to work?"

"I can take some time off," Brennan said, ignoring the exaggerated shocked expression on Angela's face. "I don't mind, Ange….after everything you did for me, I can help you anytime. Really."

Her teasing expression softening instantly, Angela smiled. "Bren, it was nothing. Really." She paused, "How are you and Booth?"

"We're fine," Brennan answered automatically. "Except…we've had four lunches now and…it's nice, it is. But we don't have a lot to talk about."

Angela raised her eyebrows. "You and Booth?"

"Mmm-hmm," Brennan murmured distractedly, watching in fascination as Brooke's tiny hand curled around Brennan's finger. "We never had this problem in the past but…there seems to be a surprising number of silent moments when we're together."

"Well, that's understandable." She smiled wryly. "You're out of practice."

For a moment, Brennan seemed to consider this. "So, by that logic, once we have had more…practice…it would be easy again?"

"Yeah, I think so," Angela smiled warmly at her. "Makes sense to me."

"Okay." Brennan was nodding, looking slightly more confident. "Good."

"What do you think, Brookie?" Angela asked laughingly, smiling down at her daughter, perfectly content in Brennan's arms.

"She's a week old, Angela, she hardly has an opinion…." Brennan's voice trailed off as she caught sight of the look on Angela's face. "You're joking."

"Very good, Bren."

"I told you, you can go take a nap. I don't mind."

Smiling, Angela stood. "Won't say no to that." She touched her hand briefly on Brennan's shoulder. "Thanks, Sweetie. You know where everything is…and don't let me sleep more than an hour, alright?"

"Sleep as long as you want," Brennan told her firmly, and Angela rolled her eyes as she headed out of the living room.

"Oh, hey, you know what?" Angela turned just before entering the hallway, and Brennan glanced up expectantly. "You and Booth need to do something together besides lunch. Like, where it's not just the two of you staring at each other across a table."

"We usually work cases."

"I know, and it sucks that you aren't cleared for field work yet…but you could still do _something _different."

Brennan thought for several seconds, and then her face lit up. "Parker asked me recently if he and Booth could come back to the pool."

Smiling encouragingly, Angela nodded, "See, there you go. Sounds perfect."

"Thank you, Ange," Brennan told her with a smile. "For helping."

Angela lingered in the doorway for a moment, her eyes on her daughter and her best friend. Her smile widened, "Always. You know that."

~(B*B)~

Booth didn't have Parker until the following weekend, so a little over a week after Brennan's conversation with Angela, the two of them were knocking on the door of her apartment.

"Hey Bones!" Parker grinned up at her. He was wearing bright orange swim trunks and a T-shirt, and he was holding a long, foam purple cylinder, bent around his neck. "You ready to swim?"

"Of course," she told him, smiling down at the boy, who was practically bouncing with excitement. Her eyes drifted to Booth's. "Hey."

"Hi," he grinned at her. He had a large pair of goggles pushed up above his forehead, complete with a snorkel.

"Dad got me a new noodle, Bones!"

She gave Parker a perplexed look. "I don't know what that means."

Abruptly, he let go of one the ends of the foam thing he was holding, causing it to straighten as one end sprung forward and thumped against Brennan's arm. "This is a noodle, Bones," he explained patiently. "You can float on it. And also blow water like a fountain, which is _hilarious_."

"Oh." Brennan nodded, though still perplexed. "You ready to go?"

Booth tapped his snorkel with a grin. "Very."

Brennan grabbed her towel and a bag, then closed the door and followed them downstairs and out behind her apartment building.

The pool area was empty, as it often was, and Parker gave an immediate whoop when he saw they'd have it all to themselves. The boy immediately started ripping off his T-shirt, and Booth warned, "Sunscreen before you get in, Parks."

The put their things down on a cluster of chairs, and Parker grumbled but allowed his father to lather sunscreen on his back.

Booth cut his eyes at Brennan as she peeled off her black bathing suit cover up. She was wearing the red bathing suit, probably his favorite on her, and Booth let his eyes roam leisurely over his partner's body.

As he watched, Brennan rubbed sunscreen on her bare shoulders. Booth saw her hesitate for a nanosecond before craning her arm awkwardly to do her back. His eyes flitted away briefly; the other times they'd been here, he'd been allowed to help her, his hands sliding over the smooth, soft skin of her back….

This thought dissolved, instantly, as Brennan started to cover her legs in sunscreen…and Booth's eyes fell, for the first time, on the long, pale scar on her left thigh.

Brennan glanced up, and her throat tightened. Booth was staring at her, as she'd expected. She secretly liked the way he looked at her when they did this, liked pretending not to notice as his gaze lingered.

But now, he was staring at her with a pinched, tight look of guilt. Not even staring at _her_ really, just her leg, the scar she hadn't even thought about.

She subtly turned slightly, crossing her legs and dropping her sunscreen bottle back in her bag.

Booth's hands had gone still on his son's back, and now Parker tilted his head back to look at Booth. "Can we get in now?"

Booth found his smile again, and quickly tugged his shirt off with one hand before seizing Parker under the arms. "Yeah, I guess we can…" Then, as Parker whooped with delight, Booth flung his son into the deep end of the pool, jumping in after him.

When he surfaced seconds later, he found Brennan smiling at them. With a wicked grin, Booth asked, "Wanna be next?"

Brennan slid into the pool beside them, and opened her mouth to speak, but Parker cut her off before she could say anything.

"Bones, I wanted you to do a cannonball in!"

She laughed easily, swimming instantly to the ladder near the diving board. "My mistake."

~(B*B)~

An hour later, Booth was throwing a foam football to Parker as he jumped off the diving board and Brennan was lounging on a float, a book with a ridiculously long title open in front of her.

Parker caught the football in midair, and when he surfaced, swam close to Booth and whispered, "Dad? Can we do it yet?"

Smiling slightly, Booth cut his eyes at Brennan and smiled, holding up one finger in Parker's direction. He swam over to Brennan's float, shaking water off his hand before gingerly plucking the book from Brennan's grasp.

Startled, she looked over at him. "Booth, wha-"

He put a finger to his lips. "Trust me." Booth gave her float a gentle push toward the center of the pool, then ducked underwater and swam back to Parker before Brennan could protest.

Two minutes later, he and Parker were swimming under Brennan's float and, together, they lifted it up and tilted, sending Brennan tumbling into the water.

She was coughing when she surfaced, gasping for breath, and Booth's smile fell away instantly to panic as he reached for her. "Bones? You okay?"

Inhaling slowly, her coughing abating, Brennan met Parker's eye and smiled. "You got me," she rasped, laughing. "Now I think protocol indicates revenge is necessary."

Parker's eyes lit up and he grinned. "What are you gonna to do?"

Brennan pretended to think about it. "Beat you in another diving contest."

"_Yessss_!" Parker was already swimming to the side. "You're the judge, Dad, come on, Bones!"

She looked at Booth, the slightly shaken look on his face, and under the water she tapped her foot against Booth's shin. "Okay?"

His face slowly relaxed. "I'm okay."

They smiled at each other until Parker's voice sounded. "Bones, you _coming_?"

"On my way, Parker," she answered.

"He's missed you," Booth told her quietly, his voice heavy with significance.

"I missed him, too," Brennan replied.

Booth hesitated, then said softly, "I'm so sorry, Bones-" Suddenly a wave of water hit him in the face, and Booth spluttered over his next words. When his vision cleared, he found Brennan watching him, her hands poised for another splash if necessary.

"Stop apologizing," she told him firmly, then swam away to where Parker was waiting. Over her shoulder, she told him, "I trust you'll be an unbiased official."

~(B*B)~

A few hours later, Brennan was cooking dinner for the three of them, while Booth bounced around the kitchen asking what he could do to help.

"You don't have to do anything," she repeated patiently. "It'll be ready in fifteen minutes, you can go watch TV with Parker if you want."

Booth looked toward the living room, where Parker was sprawled on his stomach watching Nickelodeon. "I didn't even know you got a TV," Booth murmured.

"You haven't been here in awhile," she reminded him neutrally, and Booth feel silent for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

Brennan rounded on him, her face solemn, and stared at him intently for a few seconds. "What I said in the pool…I meant it. You don't have to apologize anymore. You apologized when you were in the hospital, and at Jared's, and countless times since then…I remember." Her voice softening, she continued, "I told you I understood…you don't have to keep repeating yourself. It's really alright."

"It doesn't feel like enough."

"It _is_," Brennan insisted.

Their eyes were locked together, food preparation momentarily forgotten. Finally, Booth nodded once, then asked quietly, "Can I do one more really good one?"

She sighed, but gave him a tiny smile. "If you feel you need to."

"I do."

He drew a breath, and Brennan turned away from the stove to face him. He held her eyes for several seconds, then instinctively reached out and hooked his fingers through hers.

"I think…." He began, his words slow and deliberate. "I think I'm going to regret the last seven or eight months more than anything in my life. I'm never going to be okay with what I did."

Brennan started to speak, but Booth put two fingers over her lips, stopping her immediately. "Let me do this. You're only giving me this one last time, you have to let me finish, okay?"

He waited until Brennan reluctantly nodded before continuing, "It's just…I never wanted to hurt you. Or leave you, in any way. I was selfish, and I neglected you, for so many horrible reasons. I made myself stop noticing you, so I never had to care. And I'll never understand how I let things get as bad as they did. And I'm always going to hate that it took what happened to you to make me realize it.

"I'm so, _so _sorry that happened to you. I'm sorry for my part in it, for what I said to you before…it wasn't true, it couldn't be further from the truth. And when you were missing…I was terrified, Bones. I thought…I _knew_ that if I lost you, I would die." Again, Brennan started to speak, and he hurriedly continued, "Don't tell me it's not scientifically possible. Because I knew. If the last words I said to you were…." He stopped abruptly, throat tightening, not wanting to repeat them. "…I wouldn't have been able to live with that.

"I kind of lost it, after that. Well, you know. I should have seen you in the hospital, Bones. I shouldn't have left your side until you got released, but…I was a coward. So I'm sorry I avoided you, that I didn't start trying to fix things. The transfer, I…I'm sorry I even considered it, and that you found out the way you did. I'm sorry it took so long for me to make the decision when it should have been…so, _so_ obvious."

Booth's voice caught unexpectedly, and he cleared his throat. "I just…I don't know what happened to me, Bones. I turned into this….this person I never wanted to be. Screwing up all the time, and hurting everyone. I wasn't myself." He squeezed her hand once, softening his voice. "You brought me back, Bones. I can't….I can't thank you enough for never giving up on me. I don't see how you didn't. _I _would have. And just…I'd apologize to you every day for the rest of my life if I thought it would make it better, but it still wouldn't be enough so just…just know that I'm sorry. And I'm always going to be sorry."

Brennan let the silence settle for a moment before she took a step closer to him, slowly disentangling her fingers from his and lifting her hands. She wrapped her hands around the nape of his neck, making sure he was looking at her.

"Are you finished?" Brennan asked softly.

"Yes," Booth whispered back.

"It's _okay_. I forgive you, alright?" Booth could see the sheen of tears in her eyes, but she smiled slightly at him. "You understand?"

Throat tight, Booth nodded, and then Brennan was hugging him.

Booth tucked his face into her hair, the familiar scent assaulting his senses.

They stayed like that until they heard, "Um, Dad? Bones? Is the food ready or what?"

Drawing back suddenly, they both blinked at Parker, who was giving them a strange look from the kitchen door, then looked at each other and burst out laughing at the same time.

"Almost ready, buddy."

~(B*B)~

"Guess what?"

Brennan looked up from her desk and instantly smiled. "What?"

Grinning, Booth grabbed her coat and tossed it to her. "We have a case."

She stood up immediately, pulling on her coat and already moving to follow him. It had been a week since their day at the pool, and three days since Brennan's last physical therapy appointment, where she'd gotten the clear for field work.

"Really?"

Booth's smile widened, and as Brennan came up beside him, he held up his hand for a high five. "We're back!"

And they were. For the past week, the conversations had been getting progressively easier, the silences less frequent. It was no obvious thing, no conscious change either made. It was just as though they were slowly remembering how to fill the minutes with each other, and once again time began to slip by without them noticing.

The case, though, this first case back, cemented it. It was almost like before…not before Greg Thomas, though of course they'd worked together then, but the _real_ Before. Before Maluku and Afghanistan. Before Hannah.

There were trips to the diner between interrogations and takeout at the end of the day. And when, after three days, they solved it and made an arrest, Booth stayed in the Jeffersonian with Brennan, eating Thai food over the paperwork, talking the whole time.

"To us." Booth said as he cracked open a can of soda and held it up to Bones.

She smiled, obligingly touching her own can to his.

Booth took a long sip, then heaved a contented sigh. "Is it okay to say I've missed this?"

Arching an eyebrow, Brennan glanced up at him. "Paperwork?"

"Yeah, paperwork. Well…" He shrugged, the amended, "Not really paperwork. I've still been doing paperwork. Just…_us_ doing paperwork together. Eating Thai food." Booth smiled sheepishly. "Does that make sense?"

"Yes, it does," she agreed with a smile. "And I have, too." Brennan hesitated, then held her can up again, "We're back."

His heart caught, and Booth touched their drinks together again, repeating the toast softly, "We are back."

He was actually beginning to believe it.

~(B*B)~

It had been a month since Brooke was born, and thus a month since Booth and Brennan began moving forward, and Angela was coming back to work part time.

Brennan had asked her friend if they'd be having another dinner to celebrate _her_ return to the lab. She'd intended the comment in jest, for the most part, but Angela's eyes had lit up and she'd begun to go on and on about how long it had been since she'd had dinner out, and how Michelle _had_ been begging to babysit…

So they were going, to the same restaurant they'd been to for Brennan's 'back to work' celebration.

Except, this time, Booth was coming.

He knocked on the door at Brennan's apartment for the second time, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. For some reason, tonight had begun to feel like a test, a measurement of how he and Brennan were doing, specifically how _he _was doing…if he truly was worthy of being included this time around.

The door opened and Brennan stepped out, smiling apologetically at the delay.

"Wow," he breathed, staring at her. Brennan was wearing a red dress that made him think, fleetingly, of their case in Las Vegas. After a moment of gaping, he found his smile and, a second later, his voice. "I mean, hi."

"Hey," Brennan smiled back.

"You look….um…" His voice faltered. "You look perfect."

Flushing slightly, she told him. "So do you." She nodded at the car. "Ready to go?"

~(B*B)~

The dinner was fantastic, fun and easy, much more so than the last time they'd attempted this. Angela had nearly as much fun watching Booth and Brennan as anything else.

The two of them kept catching each other's eye and breaking in to smiles, even if they weren't actively engaged in a conversation. For the most part, though, they were talking, and it was the same as it had always been, sweet and teasing.

It was the first time Angela had seen them together for longer than a few minutes since Brooke was born, and she marveled at the difference. She'd almost forgotten how amusing this dynamic was, but it was back in full force that night.

She thought briefly of the last dinner, of the news of Hannah leaving Booth, the way Brennan had departed from the table, sure that it was the explanation for Booth's returning attention, that she was a second choice.

Tonight, though, watching the way Booth looked at her…there was no doubt who he wanted.

~(B*B)~

Booth came back to Brennan's apartment with her after, and for the first time in a month he didn't ask if it was alright; he simply parked and followed her upstairs and inside, the way he used to.

Shrugging off her coat, Brennan walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, grabbing a beer. "Do you want-" She clamped her mouth shut abruptly, her cheeks reddening.

He could see her hesitation, what she'd almost offered him. Smiling reassuringly, he told her smoothly, "I'll take some water, if that's okay."

Nodding, relieved, Brennan grabbed him a water bottle, and then put her own beer back and opted for a water.

She dropped down beside him on the couch, handing him the drink and sighing softly. "Tonight was fun."

"It was," he agreed, watching her, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm glad we did it."

Brennan leaned her head against the back of the couch, looking up at him and offered him a gift, as though she knew what he was thinking all night, "It was much better than last time we were there."

"Just so you know, Bones…I shouldn't have made you feel bad about last time. Not inviting me. I understood."

Her expression darkened slightly, though, and Brennan gazed up at him intently. "I know we hurt your feelings," she said quietly. "I never wanted…it was never about not wanting to see you. I missed you, all the time, even then, so that wasn't why."

"I know."

"Just….it was hard. Seeing you, it was hard, and I was just…getting a break until I could be okay with it." She touched his shoulder. "I just… I didn't know the others weren't seeing you either. I mean, they were seeing you. At work. But other than that….I just want you to know I would never have told them to do that."

"I know you wouldn't," Booth said quietly. "Thank you."

"I know it must have been…hard." Brennan continued, lowering her eyes. "I wouldn't blame you for being angry."

"I wasn't angry," Booth told her slowly, thinking about it. "It was just…lonely." He could feel himself flushing; this was the first time he'd admitted it. "But it woke me up faster, too. Because…I knew I deserved it. And it's pretty scary…having no one. It was pretty clear I needed to change."

Brennan frowned, her expression troubled."You never had _no one_, Booth. None of them ever stopped caring about you."

He quirked the corner of his lips into a grin. "Even Angela?"

"Even her," Brennan answered firmly. "Or me."

His eyes softened. "Thanks, Bones." He paused, letting silence hover before asking, tentatively, "Bones, can I ask something?"

"Of course. Since you just did."

He laughed once, then amended, "Something else, then." He paused, steeling himself. "You said….you said that it was hard to be around me. Is it okay to ask why?"

Brennan quickly pulled her gaze from his, and she stared down at the couch for so long that Booth nearly took it back, assured her she didn't have to say anything, but eventually Brennan spoke, her head still lowered. "It…had been hard for awhile, Booth. Things were so different between us, and…I missed it. So it was hard because you were there, but it wasn't the same. And it…" If possible, her voice got even quieter. "…it was hard to see you, knowing you were with Hannah. Seeing you with her."

Finally, she lifted her head and dragged her gaze toward him, expression pained. "When you saved me, in the basement…it was almost like we were back to normal. But then we got to the hospital and you weren't there and…well, it was even harder." She winced slightly, "I know that's not very logical."

"No it is," Booth answered, his voice rough. "I get it. And I'm sorry."

Brennan smiled wryly, lifting an eyebrow. "You aren't supposed to be apologizing anymore."

"Sorry, reflex." Booth paused, another question forming in his throat. What he wanted to know, really, was if Angela had been right, about Brennan wanting more with him, in spite of everything he'd put her through. Before he could stop himself, Booth blurted out, "Why was it hard to see me with Hannah?"

The question made Brennan's eyes widen in obvious panic, and Booth nearly regretted it. But he had to know…had it been hard because Hannah was such a big reason things had changed between them…or if it was, in fact, something else.

Again, Brennan was quiet for a long time before answering. "It was just…it hurt, Booth. And it reminded me…that I made a mistake."

He tipped his head close to her, so their foreheads were almost touching. "I'm sorry," he said again in a low voice, and for once she didn't tell him not to apologize.

"Me, too."

They looked at each other for a long moment, eyes locked, inches away. Then, Booth's eyes drifted to her lips.

They both moved forward slightly, minimizing the already small gap, and then froze.

Another moment passed, and they were suspended in the intensity of the other's gaze. Then, abruptly, Brennan leaned back, eyes snapping away.

"I should change out of this dress," she mumbled, cheeks pink. Brennan stood, leaving Booth alone on the couch.

Booth stood, too. "Yeah, I…I should go, anyway."

At that, Brennan turned. "You don't have to." She smiled a little. "You should try out the TV. See if it's satisfactory."

Booth relaxed slightly, smiling back. "That's a good idea."

He sat down again, biting back his disappointment. Real hope was sparking in his chest, and Booth smiled to himself as he waited for Bones to come back.

~(B*B)~

Three weeks later, they closed a case on Booth's birthday, and went to the diner to celebrate.

When he ordered his usual pie at the end, Brennan smiled at him. "I think the standard birthday dessert is cake."

He grinned, showily shoving a forkful of pie into his mouth before answering, "True. And I like cake. But nothing beats pie."

Brennan rolled her eyes. She had skipped dessert, but waited patiently for him to finish.

As they were leaving the diner, Brennan came to an abrupt stop just outside the door. "I got you a present," she told him hesitantly. "But I think I left it at my apartment."

Smiling easily, Booth placed his hand on her back as they walked to his car. "Sounds good. Unless you were hoping to get rid of me early tonight."

"No," Brennan countered instantly, smiling at him as they climbed into the SUV. "I wasn't."

Booth followed her up the stairs of her apartment, as he always did, a warm feeling of contentment filling him. It had been a low key birthday, filled mostly with work.

But he'd been with Bones. He had his partner, his best friend, back, and two months ago he hadn't thought that was possible.

He couldn't have asked for a better present.

Brennan opened the door to her apartment, Booth behind her. He reached out and flicked on the lights.

"_SURPRISE!"_

The word had never seemed so appropriate; Booth blinked at the crowd in front of him, his mouth hanging open.

Most of the people he knew were crowded in Brennan's apartment, which was adorned with streamers and black and silver balloons. The rest of the team was there, of course, and all the interns. But there was also Caroline Julian, Jared and Padme, many of his friends from the bureau, army buddies and friends from home he kept in touch with but hadn't seen for months…

Slowly, he turned to look at Bones, who was smiling at him almost nervously. "Happy birthday."

"You did this?"

"Well Angela decorated…and Jared helped with the invite list, but…" She stopped talking abruptly as he hugged her.

"Thanks," he murmured, close to her ear, before laughingly turning to the crowd, unsure of how to begin with so many people. "Hey, everybody…."

In seconds he was accosted by people, shaking his hand and hugging him, wishing him happy birthday and remarking on how long it had been.

Brennan had melded into the crowd, but after about ten minutes of greeting everyone, he found himself in front of Angela, smiling at him. "So were you surprised?"

"Completely," he told her honestly. "Bones planned all this?"

"For weeks now," Angela told him. She glanced around, then dropped her voice, "You know why she did this, don't you?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure," he answered, a soft smile on his face.

"Good." Tugging his arm, Angela raised her voice. "Let's do the cake, everybody!"

~(B*B)~

For the next hour and a half, Booth moved among groups of his friends, catching up and holding conversations.

He kept glancing around for Bones, but he never seemed to spot her when he wasn't in the middle of a conversation.

After awhile, he broke free of a couple of guys from the bureau and began moving through the crowd, eyes darting, only to be accosted by his brother.

"So." Jared said with a grin. "I guess you opted against transferring."

Booth smiled back, the twinge of guilt at the reminder surprisingly short-lived. "Yeah, I did. One of the best decisions I ever made." He clapped his little brother on the shoulder, his expression serious. "Thanks for everything you did for me, Jared. You were right about everything and you really….you really helped…even when you were letting me have it."

"It's no problem," Jared replied generously. "Had to return the favor."

Booth shrugged, grinning. "I guess I have saved your ass a time or two."

Laughing, Jared shook his head. "Yeah, you have, but I wasn't talking about you." At Booth's questioning look, Jared nodded behind Booth, who turned and saw Bones, standing just outside her kitchen door, talking to Angela and Cam.

"Right," he murmured.

"She really cares about you, you know," Jared told him seriously. "All this…" He waved his hand at the party around them.

"I know." The words had barely left his lips when, without saying anything else, Booth left his brother and headed toward Bones.

She and Cam were crowded around Angela, looking at what he assumed were photos of Brooke.

"Hi."

All three women looked up when he spoke, but it was obvious from his gaze that he was talking only to Brennan. Exchanging smiles, Cam and Angela muttered excuses and instantly disappeared, leaving the two of them alone at the edge of the crowd.

"I was wondering where you disappeared to," Booth told her.

Brennan smiled, shrugging slightly. "I wanted to give you a chance to enjoy the party…see everyone you don't get to see every single day."

He nudged his shoulder against hers. "I'm glad I see you every day." Booth smiled, "But it is nice to see these guys."

"I just…" Brennan trailed off, biting her lip and looking away.

"What is it?"

Looking up at him again, Brennan admitted, "I didn't like you saying you thought you had no one. I wish you had never thought that." Slightly embarrassed, she indicated the crowd in front of them. "I thought maybe…this would be a good way to show you it isn't true."

Instantly, Booth's throat constricted, and he could feel the beginnings of tears threatening him. Quickly, he pulled Bones to him, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you," he said softly when he was confident he could speak. "What did I ever do to deserve you."

Brennan drew back so she could look at him, her heart in her eyes as she told him firmly, "_Plenty_."

Smiling clumsily at her, Booth marveled at how, when Bones looked at him, he could _almost_ believe her. After a moment of silence, he held out his hand. "Dance with me, Bones."

Her eyes widened, and she glanced around the living room, where clusters of people were sitting or standing, talking and eating plates of refreshments. "No one's dancing, Booth…."

But he was already pulling her close. "So we'll start it."

Hodgins had hooked an iPod to a speaker system in the apartment, and they could just hear the soft, slow music swelling around them as Brennan obligingly wrapped her arms around him, unable to contain her smile as they began to sway slowly.

They danced for the next few minutes, unaware of the knowing smiles and glances of the crowd around them.

Booth pulled back slightly, keeping his arms around Bones but leaning back enough so he could look her in the eyes. "Thank you."

"For the dance?" Brennan asked, her eyes sparkling.

"For _everything_."

They stared at each other, the rest of the world fading. Then Brennan's lips were on his, taking him by surprise.

It was quick, a fierce burst of longing. Booth had just registered the taste of her when Brennan pulled back, her eyes wide. She glanced up, looking almost fearful, and then he leaned into her, encasing her lips in his.

She sunk into it immediately, and Booth wrapped his arms more tightly around her, sparks bursting behind his eyes, his heart pounding. Brennan wrapped a hand around the nap of his neck, stroking his skin in an easy, gentle manner that contrasted to the fervency of the kiss.

Time fell away, and Booth had no idea how long they kissed. Someone stumbled against him from the crowd behind him, and Booth pitched forward slightly.

In the next second, they were staring at each other. Booth felt dizzy and lightheaded with disbelief, and slowly a smile split his face.

But her smile was fading fast, and in the next second, Brennan's eyes were wild with quickly descending panic.

"Sorry about that, Seeley," said the voice from behind him, whoever had hit him, and he turned instinctively to wave them off.

In the next split second, when he turned back around, all he saw was Brennan's back, moving away from him through the crowd.

_A/N: So, yeah. Couldn't make it completely shiny and happy QUITE yet….but hopefully this chapter was a good respite from all the angst. The light at the end of the tunnel has never been closer._

_Let me know what you think! I'm probably going to be able to post the final chapter soon, and reviews never hurt (it wouldn't be one of my author's notes without a shameless plug, right?)_

_Also, I finally broke down after months of convincing from my beta, biba79, and joined twitter. So follow me if you're on there…the name is Brainysmurf06. My name here was taken with the 0, so hopefully it's not too confusing haha._

_Thanks for reading!_


	16. All This Time

_Author's Note: __ Here we go, everybody. The final chapter. Always so bittersweet for me haha. Close to 1,000 reviews for this thing, and I've been overwhelmed with everyone's response to this fic. I've loved writing it, and I appreciate all of you so much for sticking with it. It's been an angsty ride, and I hope you've enjoyed it. Without further ado….your conclusion. As always, I can't wait to hear what you think._

_Song is "All This Time" by OneRepublic._

Chapter Fifteen

All This Time

_Six on the second hand till new year's resolutions  
There's just no question what this man should do  
Take all the time lost, all the days that I cost  
Take what I took and give it back to you_

_All this time we were waiting for each other  
All this time I was waiting for you  
We got all these words, can't waste them on another  
So I'm straight in a straight line running back to you_

Booth watched Brennan move away from him, disappearing into the crowd. His instinct was to follow her, but for a moment he stood frozen, shell shocked by what had just happened.

He lifted his hand, unconsciously touching his fingers to his lips. Her taste lingered there, and Booth wanted it back.

This realization propelled Booth forward, panic beginning to descend over him.

Pushing through the crowd, Booth swept his eyes over the room, but he didn't see her.

"Did that just happen?" A delighted voice said from behind. A second later, Angela was grabbing his arm and turning him to face her.

"Ange," Booth began urgently. "Did you see Bones-"

"-kiss you? Oh yeah." Angela was grinning. "And I saw you kiss back-"

"She _left_, Angela," Booth cut her off sharply. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, in no mood to gush like a couple of middle school girls. "She ran away, I have to…I have to find her."

The mirth faded somewhat from Angela's eyes. "She went outside." Booth turned instantly on his heel to run, but Angela caught hold of his arm. "Hey." She met his eyes. "Go easy, okay? Be patient."

He barely nodded before pulling away from her slackening grip and heading out the door of the apartment, leaving his party behind.

~(B*B)~

Moments later, Booth burst out into the warm night air.

Brennan was standing on the sidewalk in front of the building, her back to him, her arms crossed in front of her.

"Bones…."

She turned, startled, that panicked look still in her eyes. She said nothing.

Booth gritted his teeth, biting back the childish opener _'but you started_ _it'._ Instead, he asked quietly, "Was that…was that not okay?"

Brennan closed her eyes briefly. "I shouldn't…I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

His throat narrowing, desperation gripping him, Booth moved a few steps closer to her. "Why? Why are you sorry?"

She was shaking her head, face twisting. "I…I can't. Booth, last time we did this, and…and what I said after… that, that was the cataclysmic moment that caused…_everything."_

Immediately, Booth softened, "Hey…" He took the last few steps toward her, gently touching her cheek. "You don't have to worry about that, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again." He paused, eyes boring into hers. "So you can say anything to me. Okay?"

Brennan was quiet for a moment, catching her lower lip between her teeth. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Fine, okay, I…_I'll_ talk." He sighed, steeling himself. "_I_ am not sorry you kissed me, Bones. Or that I kissed back." Booth smiled at her, nervously. "I want to kiss you again. I….I want to do more than kiss you. I…I want to be with you, Bones." His next words tangled in his throat, terrifying him, and for a moment he wrestled with himself.

"Booth-"

"I love you," Booth blurted out, her voice shocking the truth out of him. The words stopped Brennan instantly; her eyes widened as she stared up at him, her chest constricting. "I love you, Bones, and I want us to be together, but…if you don't want to be with me, I get it. I mean, _of course_ I get it, but just…" Booth swallowed hard. "Just tell me. And I won't go anywhere this time, I swear, it's okay. If you don't feel that way about me anymore, you can tell me."

Drawing a long, shaky breath, Brennan lowered her eyes, and admitted in a quiet voice, "It isn't that."

Hope flared in Booth's chest, though the pained expression on Brennan's face kept him cautious. "Then what?" He questioned gently.

"I…we _just_ started being friends again," Brennan told him thickly. "And…I can't _lose_ you again, Booth, okay?"

"You won't!" The protest tumbled out in a rush. Booth was holding her arms, his tone vehement. "You won't, Bones, I told you, I…I want this, okay? I want _us_."

There was a silence, and then Booth felt Brennan go limp beneath his grip. She dragged her eyes to meet his, her face tight. "I know," she told him softly. "But…you said that before."

"I….oh…." Slowly, Booth slackened his hold on Brennan, taking a step back, his stomach tightening. "You don't trust me."

"It's not you I don't trust," she told him. "It _isn't_, it's the…consistency of romantic feelings. I…I've always said romantic relationships are ephemeral, that a person can't guarantee how they'll feel about someone for an entire lifetime-"

"Come on." Booth grabbed her hand impulsively, his eyes wide and pleading. "Come on, don't do that, Bones…you feel it, too. I know you do…"

"_Yes_, but Booth…." She laughed once, desperate and humorless. "You said you wanted to give _us_ a chance, and then…then you met Hannah and fell in love with her."

These words hovered between them, echoing in the silence. Booth took a few steps back, rubbing his hands over his face, remorse filling him. His legs were suddenly trembling beneath him, and Booth walked the few paces to the curb and sat down.

Tears rose to Brennan's eyes as she watched Booth sink down in defeat. Terror clawed at her throat, that they were starting all this over again.

She sunk down beside him on the curb, giving Booth an uncertain, desperate look. Brennan touched his shoulder. "I just really don't want to lose you," she said in a choked voice.

Booth closed his eyes. "I get it."

And he did.

He'd always been the one to try to convince Bones that love was worth trusting, that it was more than chemicals in the brain…that it could last.

But he'd told her how he felt; assured her of five years worth of certainty, that he'd known since the very beginning.

Then the next sentence out of his mouth was that he had to move on. And in less than seven months, it seemed like he had.

So he got it, why Bones didn't trust him, didn't consider it worth the risk.

Once again, it was all his fault.

Booth turned to look at Brennan, and his heart caught instantly at the naked fear on her face. Immediately, he wrapped an arm around her, and Brennan gratefully leaned her head on his shoulder. "It's okay. I told you, Bones, you can tell me anything. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," Brennan murmured into his shirt.

Booth tilted his neck, his temple resting on the crown of Brennan's head. She reached over and slipped her hand into his free one. They sat like that together for awhile.

Finally, Booth pressed a kiss against her hair, hating that that was all he was allowed, and softly broke the silence, "You want to go back to the party?"

"In another minute."

Both nodded, not sorry.

As the silence returned, though, Booth's mind began to churn.

He was remembering what Angela had said, nearly two months ago, during their dinner. She'd asked him why he didn't fight for Brennan the first time, why he gave up so easy.

He couldn't do that again.

~(B*B)~

They eventually stood and walked back to the party, fingers laced between them.

As they walked inside, Booth squeezed her hand once before disentangling his grasp.

They stayed close for the rest of the party, Booth introducing Brennan to the people she didn't really know. He suspected her motivation for staying close was avoiding the questions swirling in Angela's eyes, and the way Cam was looking at him made him grateful.

Still, for the last two hours of the party, Booth was barely there. All his mental energy was dedicated to wracking his brain for some way to prove to Bones that _they_ were worth taking a chance on.

So Booth was grateful when people began trickling out of the apartment. He said his goodbyes and thank you's to all his friends. He saw Angela whisper "We will talk later." to Brennan as she and Hodgins left.

Then the two of them were alone again.

Brennan closed the door behind Angela and Hodgins, and turned around to smile at him, slightly uncertain.

He returned it. "Good party, Bones." Surveying the apartment, he offered, "I can help you clean up."

Frowning, Brennan walked toward the living room, beginning to pick up plates and other trash scattered around the room. "I don't think it's customary for you to clean up after a party that was thrown for _you_."

"Ah, screw the custom," Booth said with a grin. "I don't mind."

She paused long enough to give him a small smile. "Thanks."

For the next fifteen minutes, they moved around the apartment in companionable silence.

When they finished, Booth dropped beside Brennan on the couch and lightly bumped his shoulder against hers. "Thanks for the party, Bones." She turned, meeting his eyes. Booth smiled. "Thank you for doing that for me it was…you're amazing."

Brennan's lips curved in a tiny smile. "You're welcome." She hesitated, then asked softly, "Are we okay?"

"_Bones_. Yes, okay? We're fine, I promise." He draped his arm over her shoulders on the couch. "We're good." He paused, then, before he could change his mind, muttered, "Let me take you to dinner."

Her eyebrows drawing together, Brennan drew back to look at him. "We go to dinner all the time, Booth."

Booth's mouth was suddenly dry, his hands shaking slightly with nerves. "Yeah, um, I…I know, but, uh…I mean like…" He paused, then, in a rush, finished, "…._likeonadate."_

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

Booth paused, drawing a slow breath. "Go on a date with me, Bones.

A myriad of emotions flickered across Brennan's face in quick succession. Booth swore she nearly smiled, but then she gave him a doubtful look.

"Booth, I told you-"

"I know," he interrupted quickly. "But…just give me one date, Bones. One chance, that's all I'm asking. I think I…I think I can prove to you that you're wrong, that what I'm feeling…it's for real."

"Booth, I never said it wasn't-"

"-and that it's for _good_. Just give me one chance to prove that, Bones, please. And, anyway, we deserve at least _one _date, right? We've earned that much, we owe it to ourselves to just-"

"Yes."

"-give it a try and…" Booth's voice trailed off as Brennan's last word sunk in. He blinked at her, something swelling in his chest. "I….really?"

The expression on Brennan's face suggested that she wasn't at all sure about what she'd just said. Still, she nodded once. "Yes, I'll…one date."

Booth was suddenly smiling so wide his cheeks ached. "Yeah. Okay, I…that's good." Booth laughed once. "Friday? At like….seven?"

Lowering her eyes, Brennan bit back a smile. "That would be acceptable."

His voice several octaves higher than usual, Booth replied, "Great, that's…wow. Okay. Friday. That's great, Bones, it's…" He hugged her one, quickly. "Thank you. For my party." He stood up, some vague part of his mind telling him to go before she changed her mind. "And…you know. I'll see you Friday." He paused at the door. "I mean, I'll see you before Friday because we…have work, but…." He smiled, voice softening. "Goodnight, Bones."

"Goodnight, Booth."

He backed out of the room, smiling at her until the door closed.

It was Saturday. He had less than a week to plan a perfect date.

~(B*B)~

"I need to talk to you," Brennan said under her breath.

Angela whirled instantly, her face lighting up. "My thoughts _exactly_, Sweetie." Seizing her arm, Angela fell into step with Brennan as they headed to her office. As soon as they were inside, Angela closed the door and led Brennan forcibly to the couch. "Tell me everything."

"I think I did something…foolish last night, Ange." Brennan began.

"Brennan, I saw you kiss him, and there was _nothing_ stupid about that."

Brennan sighed. "I wasn't talking about that, but….that wasn't my most intelligent moment either."

Shaking her head, Angela gave her best friend a look that was equal parts exasperation and affection. "Sweetie, I'd say it was the smartest thing you've done in awhile." Angela smiled. "So what _were_ you talking about?"

For a moment, Brennan was quiet, trying to decide how best to explain. Finally, she simply admitted. "Booth said that he loves me. And then I agreed to go on a date with him."

Brennan endured the squealing and exclamations that followed for a minute or so after this revelation, and then sobered her friend up instantly. "I told him I couldn't do it."

"What? Sweetie, you just said you _agreed_ to go on a date."

"No, I…I did, that's…that was the foolish thing." She sighed, and quickly gave Angela a summary of their conversations outside her apartment and in the apartment after the party.

When she finished, Angela nodded for awhile then, choosing her words carefully, stated, "I'm going to resist explaining to you why exactly you're wrong, Sweetie, because I feel like it's only right that I give Booth a chance first."

"Angela-"

"But, Sweetie, you said yes to a date," Angela couldn't suppress a smile at the words. "Even after all that , you still said yes."

"I know." Brennan's fingers were twisting in her lap, and she stared down at them when she admitted, "But…he asked, and…I wanted to go."

"Of course you did."

"I shouldn't have, though. I think…it gave him the wrong idea." Brennan sighed, threading her fingers through her hair. "A date doesn't change anything."

Angela exhaled slowly, tilting her head at Brennan. "Bren, Sweetie….Booth loves you. And I know you love him."

"That…doesn't matter, Angela," Brennan stammered.

Arching an eyebrow, Angela smiled wryly. "Glad you're not denying it. But Brennan, what I'm saying is…you two love each other. That is _all_ that matters."

"_Now_, Angela. He says he loves me _now_. But…four months ago, he was in love with Hannah."

The smile slowly faded from Angela's face. "Bren, like I said, I don't want to go into this whole thing until Booth has a chance first…if he messes it up, we can have a real talk." Angela laid a hand on Brennan's arm, squeezing gently. "But, Sweetie…just think about something for me, okay? Hodgins and I, we broke up for awhile. We were in love and then….we were with other people."

Leaning forward, Angela held Brennan's gaze, her expression serious. "I never loved anyone the way I loved Jack, Bren. And even when I was with other people…Roxie and Wendell…I realized later that I never really stopped loving him. And we found our way back to each other." She smiled. "It happens, Bren. People get lost for awhile, sometimes. But love, real love….it doesn't just go away. Even if you're pretending it has."

Brennan looked away, swallowing hard. "Why…why are you telling me this?"

"Just…think about that, okay? Especially when Booth starts in on whatever he's planning to do to change your mind." Impulsively, Angela hugged Brennan quickly. "You deserve to be happy, Brennan. More than anyone I know, okay?" She drew back, smiling teasingly at her friend. "And I've even decided that Booth does, too." Angela paused, voice soft, "It's okay to want that."

Throat too tight to speak, Brennan just nodded.

Angela smiled. "Now, I think we should leave here a couple of hours early on Friday….Brooke and I can come over and help you get ready…"

~(B*B)~

For the rest of the week, Booth and Brennan were almost nervous around each other, prone to silences and shy, frequent smiles.

Booth spent the week planning the date and, even more importantly, planning his strategy for convincing Brennan that it wouldn't be their _only _date.

He had it planned down to every last detail, from the restaurant to the music playing in the car (a mixed CD, softer than what he usually blasted).

They closed a case Thursday, so Booth didn't see her Friday during the day. He was grateful; it only would have exacerbated his anxiety.

Still, Booth was a ball of nerves by the end of the day, and he ended up leaving the Hoover an hour early. He filled his gas tank on his way home, then called to triple check their reservation for the evening. He showered, then spent far too long deliberating before deciding on a light blue dress shirt. He picked up flowers.

Then he ended up sitting in his car outside Brennan's apartment forty minutes before he was supposed to pick her up.

~(B*B)~

"Oh, Sweetie…" Angela sighed happily. "You look incredible."

Eyes clouded with doubt, Brennan moved in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. "You don't think it's too much?"

"Of course not," Angela said absently, holding up two pairs of earrings next to Brennan's head before deciding on one and handing them to her. "It's your _first_ date with _Booth_. And he's going to love it."

She had on a deep, dark purple dress, low cut, with thin straps, that fell loosely a few inches above her knee. Angela has sprayed something on her hair that made it wave slightly, and she'd spent far too long on makeup.

At Angela's assurance, Brennan smiled slightly, "Yeah?"

"Of course." Angela hooked her chin over Brennan's shoulder, smiling at her in the mirror, her eyes bright. "You look beautiful, Bren."

"I'm scared," Brennan whispered softly.

"I know," Angela replied, stepping back and gently turning Brennan to face her. "You're gonna have a great time. It's going to be perfect."

Laughing once, Brennan said, "That's what I'm afraid of, Ange."

Angela shook her head, smiling. "I'll let Booth do his thing. But if he doesn't talk you into committing to about fifty more dates, just as a start…then I'll do it."

"Ange-"

There was suddenly a burst of loud babbling from behind them, and Angela lifted Brooke from her carrier, set in the middle of Brennan's large bed. "What do you think, baby?" Angela turned back to Brennan, her daughter balanced on her hip. "Doesn't Aunt Bren look pretty?"

The doorbell rang, cutting off Brenan's protests. Brennan whipped around, her expression suddenly terrified.

Angela, though, broke into a delighted smile. "He's here," she said unnecessarily. Shifting Brooke slightly, Angela freed one hand and nudged Brennan gently toward the door of her bedroom. "Go. Have fun. _Call_ me." Brennan was nodding along, and finally she started out of the room, but Angela's voice stopped. "And hey….listen to him, okay?" She smiled encouragingly. "Give it a chance. You both deserve it."

~(B*B)~

Booth rang the doorbell a second time, his throat narrowing as he did. Bad flashbacks hit him, standing on Hodgins' doorstep, knowing they were home even when no one answered.

He was edging slowly toward panic, wracking his brain to reassure himself he had the time right, when the door opened and she was standing in front of him. "Hey."

All the breath rushed from Booth's lungs as he stared at her. "Wow….Bones…you….wow."

Giving him a small smile, she laughed self-consciously. "You, um, too."

"You're beautiful," Booth said softly. He thrust his left hand in her direction, giving her the bouquet of daffodils he'd been clutching in a death grip. "Not the most traditional first date flowers, I know," Booth admitted with a grin. "But they're your favorite, so…

"They are," she repeated, taking them with a widening smile. "Thank you."

Booth smiled, inhaling deeply. "You ready to do this?"

Brennan took a second to look at him, his warm, chocolate eyes bright with hope. "Yeah. I think I am."

~(B*B)~

It took a few minutes in the car for both of them to relax and calm their nerves, but once they did, the conversation flowed steadily between them, just as always.

Only when she glanced at the clock and realized they'd been driving for forty-five minutes did Brennan ask, "Booth, where are we going for dinner?"

He cut his eyes at her, grinning. "It's a surprise. I found this place…we'll be there in about a half hour, but believe me, it'll be worth it."

"You didn't have to do that-"

"I know…I wanted to." He took his eyes off the road just long enough to smile at her. "Besides, it's a big night. Didn't want to take you somewhere we always go. It's gotta be special."

Brennan smiled back. "Alright." Slowly, her smile faded. "Booth…."

He, too, was squinting ahead of them. "Damn it…." Ahead of them on the highway, two cars were stopped, one in the median and one in the shoulder on the opposite sides, both thoroughly crushed.

And debris from the cars littered the road in front of them.

"Shit, shit, shit…" Booth craned his neck. "Can I get over…"

"Not if you don't want to hit that car…."

On cue, their car started vibrating heavily, shaking as they sped over the littered road.

Within seconds, the drive became smooth again. Booth clenched his jaw, knuckles white on the wheel, as Brennan lifted her cell phone, "It may not have been reported yet…"

Booth was only dimly aware of Brennan's voice on the phone. In spite of the fact that he was driving, he closed his eyes, praying fiercely, _Please don't get a flat tire. Please don't get a flat tire, come on…_

~(B*B)~

"Yep," Booth gritted out, straightening up, his jaw clenched. "They're both flat." He aimed a violent kick at the back tire before walking around the SUV to where Bones was standing. He gritted his teeth. "And I have _one_ spare."

They'd made it about fifteen miles before the damage had set in, and now they were pulled over on the side of some road middle of nowhere.

Calmly, Brennan pulled out her cell phone. "I'll call for a tow."

Defeated, Booth leaned against the side of the SUV, clutching his head in his hands as Brennan talked on the phone.

He stayed like that until he felt Brennan's hand on his arm. "They said it could be a few hours," she told him softly. Booth kept his head ducked. "Hey…" The concern in Brennan's voice made him look up at her. "You okay?"

A soft laugh escaped him, humorless and shaky. "_No_, Bones. _No,_ I'm not okay."

"It's not a big deal," Brennan told him uncertainly.

Before he could stop himself, Booth slammed his palm against the side of the car, taking a step away. "It _is_! It _is_ a big deal, I just….I wanted this to be _perfect_! I…I screwed everything up for so long that I just…I didn't want to screw this up, too. And I had the whole thing planned, I found this restaurant, and it's really nice and famous for vegetarian stuff and I really, really wanted to take you, because…I don't even know if you really wanted to come, so I wanted it to be perfect so you'd have this _amazing_ time and, and now…now I have _two flat tires _in the middle of God knows where and it is a _very huge_ deal!" He stared at Brennan, and then sighed. "And, and now you're laughing at me. Fantastic."

Brennan pressed her fingers over her lips, her laughter slowly subsiding. When she looked at him, her blue eyes were bright with affection. "Booth. I'm not laughing at you, it's just…I don't _care_ where we eat, or what we do, I just…I said yes because I really wanted a date with you." She walked up to him, putting a hand on his chest, and smiled. "Even if it is only one."

Slowly, Booth felt the tension unfurl inside him. A smile stretched his lips, transforming the frustrated expression on his face. "You said they'd be a few hours?"

"Two at least."

Curling his fingers, Booth slowly slid them the length of Brennan's arm. "Saw a scary looking pizza place about a half mile back. Shall we?"

Brennan smiled back. "I don't think it was eat in."

Booth rolled his eyes skyward. "Of course it wasn't." His eyes snapped back to Brennan's and suddenly both of them were laughing, so hard they were leaning against each other.

When they finally calmed down, Booth reached down and threaded their fingers together. "Let's go. Pretty sure I promised you dinner."

~(B*B)~

Forty-five minutes later, they had climbed on the hood of the SUV, a pizza box between them.

"I gotta admit," Booth said, swallowing a large bite of cheese pizza. "This worked out. I wasn't looking forward to all that veggie crap."

Brennan gave him a strange look, "Then why did you make a reservation there?"

"I told you," he said casually, glancing over at her. "I thought you'd like it."

For a moment, Brennan just watched him, smiling, but she said nothing.

After a moment, Booth asked, a teasing note in his voice, "So where would you have picked to go? You know, if _you_ were trying to impress _me_?"

She shrugged, considering. "You like the diner."

"The _diner_?" He repeated, making a face. "C'mon, Bones, you could do better than that. First date, _big _event…where do you take me?"

"Um…" Brennan paused. "Somewhere with really good pie?"

He grinned, pretending to think about it. "Okay, I could get behind that…"

"Or maybe somewhere with really good gourmet macaroni and cheese."

"Aw, Bones…" Booth nudged his shoulder against hers. "You know your mac and cheese is my favorite."

Brennan smiled. "Then I'd just make it for you. Instead of taking you somewhere."

His smile softened. "I like that idea." Booth swallowed, then added lightly, "Maybe we could do that on our next date."

She glanced away, not answering. For the first time, the silence between was slightly uncomfortable.

Booth finished the slice he was holding in his hand, then waiting for Brennan to do the same before saying, "Lean back, Bones. Look…"

She raised an eyebrow, but obliged without question; the two of them leaned against the windshield, gazing up at the sky.

His gaze barely lingered on the stars before Booth turned slightly to watch Brennan.

"They're beautiful, aren't they, Booth?" Brennan spoke in a hushed voice.

"Yeah," he said quietly, voice rough. "Beautiful."

Brennan's hand moved slightly, the edges of her fingers brushing his. Smiling to himself, Booth looked back up at the stars, sliding his fingers into hers.

He slid over on the car, minimizing the gap between them, when his foot hit something.

"Shit." Booth craned his neck in time to watch the pizza box, with half the pizza still inside, slide off the car onto the ground.

"What happened?" Brennan craned her neck, too, following his gaze.

With a soft, incredulous laugh, Booth dropped his head back against the windshield. "Lost the food….you know, pretty typical of this date so far."

"Booth?" He turned his head, meeting Brennan's eyes. "I think it's been a more than sufficient first date."

He smiled, "More than sufficient?"

Brennan's voice dropped, barely more than a whisper, "Really, really good."

He closed his eyes, brushing his lips with hers.

Brennan responded immediately, and Booth reached over, tracing his thumb gently across Brennan's cheekbone. He kissed her softly, movements languid, as if they had all the time in the world.

But then she was slowing, and murmured against his mouth, "Booth….Booth, wait…"

He drew back, drawing a breath, slowly opening his eyes to find Brennan's inches away, swirling with conflict. Booth half-smiled at her. "Okay….I can do this now."

"Do what?"

He laughed a little, nerves seeping back in. "I can go ahead with the speech."

Brennan pursed her lips, uncertain. "Speech?"

"Yeah…see I have this whole speech planned for you, and…well, I'll just go ahead." Booth paused, steeling himself. He didn't move his hand from Brennan's cheek, still rubbing his thumb absently against her skin as he began, "I know what you think, Bones. I get it. The two of us, the…the whole time we've been partners…I've always been the romantic one. Even back when you were insisting love was just this…chemical process in the brain and that none of that was constant…I was always the one trying to prove you wrong.

"I wanted to make you change your mind to…to believe that love was real and that it could last. And I think I always knew, in the back of my mind…that I was really trying to get you to believe in the possibility of love for…for us." He paused, smiling sadly. "And then…then I ruined it. I know I did, Bones, I…I told you I was that guy, the guy who _knew_ what he felt about you, who had _always_ known. And then five seconds later I said I was moving on.

"So I know what you're thinking, Bones. I know why you're scared…you think what I was feeling before went away, and that I started feeling it for someone else." He lowered his voice. "And you're scared that will happen again."

Brennan closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them, Booth was close enough to see the tears spiking her eyelashes.

"You're _wrong_," Booth continued, his voice catching. "About all of that. I messed up, I did, and you _know_ I know that, but…Bones, how I felt about Hannah…it wasn't anything like it was with you. And…that never went away." He paused. "Loving _you_ never went away. I pretended it had, I even thought that it had but…God, I was kidding myself. I had to become this whole different guy to even _pretend_ I wasn't in love with you.

"But I still was. And the second I found out Greg Thomas had you…I knew." Booth's throat narrowed, and he held her eyes, intensity growing. "I would have chosen you, Bones. You were wrong down there, in that basement. If I'd have had to choose….God, I couldn't have let you die."

At this, Brennan's eyes had gone wide, a shaky sigh escaping her. Booth gently traced his thumb across the track of a tear rolling towards her temple and continued softly, "I'd spent months trying so hard to be in love with Hannah, trying to pretend I wasn't with you…but there was no question. You're the one…I couldn't survive losing. _Ever._

"I woulda chosen you, Bones. It breaks my heart that I made you think I wouldn't but…I'll always choose you. Always. Just like I've always been…so in love with you that I can't…I can't hide that without losing myself. And that's never gone away, and it's never going to. No matter what you say when I get done rambling…even if this is the one and only date we ever get to have." He shuffled sideways just a little, touching his forehead against hers. "I've never loved anyone like this, Bones. And…and I've never _needed_ anyone this much."

It was this word, _need_, that broke her. A sob rounded in Brennan's throat and escaped, tears spilling over.

The ghost of the old Booth, the guy who'd stood in Brennan's office after months of neglect and claimed he didn't need her, hovered for a brief moment.

Then Brennan smiled, the memory gone, and when she fiercely captured his lips with her own, Booth was aware of the dizzying taste of redemption.

They kissed fervently, breaths harsh but soft. Booth rolled on his side, supporting his weight with one knee on the hood, bracing the hand not threaded through Brennan's hand against the windshield as he bent over Brennan, kissing her hungrily, as though were reclaiming what was rightfully his.

Brennan shivered beneath him, her fingers softly stroking Booth's neck, her other hand wrapped around him, fingers splayed on his back.

"My God, Bones…" he murmured after a few moments of this, his words falling on her lips. Brennan laughed softly, a low, throaty sound that nearly did him in.

Booth tipped his face toward hers again, his nose brushing hers briefly before he recaptured her mouth, intensity increasing.

Moments later though, he lifted his head again. "What's that sound?"

He felt them the same instant he saw them; raindrops pelting against the windshield, sparse at the moment, but slowly growing.

"Raining…perfect," Booth muttered. His hand, braced against the windshield, slipped as he shifted, and Booth barely caught himself before cracking his skull against Bones'. Aware of how harsh his breathing sounded, he told her, "We're gonna fall off here, Bones."

Chest heaving, she just nodded, and he reluctantly moved away from her, sliding off the car and grabbing Brennan's hand the help her down, the rain already increasing around them as they ducked into the backseat of the SUV.

Booth slammed the door behind him and turned back to Brennan, who was shaking her damp hair, her cheeks flushed; he couldn't help but smile.

"God, you're beautiful, Bones."

She slid toward him, without saying a word, kissing again, slow and heavy, her fingers trembling slightly as she undid the buttons of his shirt. She slid her hand beneath the material, grazing the warm skin of his chest, feeling the thundering of his heartbeat.

Booth ran his hand down the bare skin of her back, down to her hip, finally teasing his fingers beneath the hem of her dress, just as Bones fingers began fumbling with his belt.

"Bones, wait…" Booth's voice was strangled.

Sucking air, Brennan looked down at him, panting. "What's wrong?"

He cleared his throat several times. "I just…God, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but…we can't do this now." Hurt flickered across her features, and Booth hurriedly said, "Not…not like this…I want our first time to be…perfect. I want it to be _magic_, Bones." He laughed unsteadily. "I want it to be special, not…in the back of a car like a couple of high school kids after homecoming."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "You had intercourse in a car after homecoming?"

"Um, I…that's not important. What matters is…" He ran his knuckles down her arm, smiling up at her. "It's a big deal, Bones. A really big deal. It's gonna be our last first time. Ever."

For a moment, Brennan's expression was uncomprehending, but then her eyes widened as his meaning sank in. "Booth, you can't-"

"Don't say I can't know that," Booth told her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, away from her eyes. "I can. I do."

Brennan looked down, and fear knotted in Booth's chest, but when she looked up again she was smiling luminously at him. "Okay." She shifted slightly, onto the seat next to him, and Booth wrapped an arm around her as Brennan leaned into his chest. "Booth?"

He pressed his lips, feather light, against her hairline. "Yeah, Bones?"

There was a pause, and then she said in a small voice, "I love you." Booth's heart caught, his vision blurring unexpectedly.

She looked up at him, expression earnest. "And I still don't know if I trust that." Again, Booth's chest tightened, fear prickling at him. But then Brennan added softly, "But I trust _you_."

Sighing in relief, Booth tightened his grip on her. "That's good enough for me, Bones." He laughed once in disbelief. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve it, Bones. Or you."

"Plenty," she murmured against his chest.

They sat there in silence, entangled, listening to the rain pounding on the windows of the car, and Booth closed his eyes. Even now, he didn't feel worthy of so much perfection. So much joy.

But then Brennan tilted her head again to look at him, their eyes meeting, and she smiled at him.

He smiled back, every part of him feeling the full truth of that word, _need_. He really did need her, so much.

His mistakes added up; Booth knew he'd never stop regretting them. But one smile from Bones, and they felt far away, dark reminders of some guy who wasn't really him.

She'd brought him back to himself. Maybe he didn't deserve her, maybe he never would…but Booth made a promise to himself, right there, that he'd spend the rest of his life trying.

"Hey Booth?" Brennan tilted her head. "The vegetarian restaurant did sound appetizing...maybe we could go for our second date?"

Booth had to swallow against the tightness in his throat, and he rested his head on hers as he answered, "I think I could handle that. If you'll cook mac and cheese for our third date."

He felt her nod beneath him, and Booth placed his hand over hers, linking their fingers. "We got a deal, Bones." He sighed in contentment. "I think it's gonna be perfect."

~(B*B)~

_A/N: So there you have it. All That You Can't Leave Behind is now complete. I've loved writing this fic, and I've loved reading your reviews. To go all award show for a second, I have to thank my incredible beta, Biba, who's been such a help with making me write, helping me figure out what to write, and telling me when something works or not. This fic wouldn't be what it is without her help._

_And, yet again, thank you all for reading it. You're all amazing. I'm proud of this story, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it half as much as I have writing it._

_My new fic will be up in the next week or two, most likely. It's called "Truth Doesn't Make A Noise", and I'm incredibly excited to get it started. As you can all guess, it's a dark and angsty ride, full of love and redemption and struggling. Won't say much about it yet, but just to tease 1) It's the first time I've written Booth and Brennan in an established relationship and 2) It began because I wanted to explore the depth of Booth and Brennan's love, specifically, how far they'd go for each other._

_Intrigued? I hope so. I hope you'll check it out, and I hope you'll tell me what you thought of the conclusion to this one. Thanks again for reading._

_~Hannah (obligatory apologies for my name)_


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